


Siren Song

by sadladybug



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Body Swap, Drama, F/M, Humor, a dash of action and excitement, a liberal sprinkling of dirty humor, but mostly just a whimsical arc-of-which-they-do-not-speak, drunk Sesshomaru, shipping snafus, uncomfortable revelations and angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:04:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6805798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadladybug/pseuds/sadladybug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Naraku hires a mysterious woman to do his bidding, Inuyasha and Sesshomaru become the victims of a curse that leaves them feeling… not themselves.</p><p>A body swap tale of a different kind, featuring bumbled battles, copious amounts of sake, shipping snafus, and maybe -just maybe- a touch of empathy. An arc-of-which-they-do-not-speak, somewhere between Season 7 and the Final Act.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Put a Spell On You

“I believe our guest has arrived. Show her in, Kagura.”

From the corner of the room, Kagura quirks a brow. “A guest? Here?”

“Indeed. A very special one. She should prove to be extremely useful.” A wicked, blissful smile curves Naraku’s lips, and Kagura has to repress a shudder. She flips open her fan to cover her discomfort.

“Is it really wise to bring someone here and give away your location?”

His eyes narrow. “It’s not your place to question me. Do as you are told.”

There is a thump in her chest, and the wind sorceress chooses not to press the issue. After all, what did she care if Naraku slipped up? The sooner he made a mistake, the sooner she could claim her freedom. If Naraku wanted to invite a whole _village_ to their hiding place, it was none of her concern. Still, it was frustrating to be left out of the loop. Without information it was hard to plan countermoves against him.

As she exits the room, she can’t help but wonder what it will be this time. Throughout his rise to power, Naraku’s tricks had only become more and more devious as he came closer to completing the Shikon Jewel. She can only imagine what new horror waits for her as she makes her way to the entrance.

When she steps outside she is immediately confused, and more than a little disappointed. The woman waiting patiently at the entrance is merely a human, by the looks of her. And not even an impressive one at that.

Surely this couldn’t be right. Tentatively Kagura greets her. “You here to see Naraku?”

The woman nods but says nothing, her gaze steady and calm. Kagura eyes her plain clothing and pretty, narrow face. There was nothing particularly interesting about this woman - no dark powers or demonic energy swirling, no great beauty or apparent wealth. _Where did Naraku even_ find _these people?_

Kagura shrugs. “Follow me.”

The woman trails behind in silence. Though she’s entirely nonthreatening, Kagura can’t shake the sense of unease as she leads the woman to where Naraku waits. Something just wasn’t _right_ about her.

When they enter the antechamber the woman’s bow is appropriately low as she approaches the cushion where Naraku is seated. Even when she straightens she says nothing. Kagura begins to wonder if she is mute.

“Leave us, Kagura.”

She takes one last look at the woman and bows out, sliding the doors shut behind her. She knows that she should keep walking; Naraku would not thank her for eavesdropping. Still, the curiosity was too much. Any clue that could help her bring down Naraku would be worth the risk. She stands in the hallway, holding her breath as she strains to listen.

The voice that drifts through the screens is not one voice but a hundred, layered in sweet, feminine harmony. With four words she has the sorceress captivated, rooted to the spot.

“You summoned me, Naraku?”

“Welcome, Lady Aika. I have a task for you…”

* * *

 

It had been a long day.

Scratch that. It had been a long _week._

No signs of Naraku, no signs of Hakudoshi or the Infant, no jewel shards to chase. A long, _boring_ week.

Hell, at this point Inuyasha would almost welcome an appearance from his bastard brother, just to liven things up.

Almost. Not quite.

He sighs and surveys the group. From their listless expressions, they are just as demoralized as he is. If he had the words, he would say something encouraging. He would tell them that the next jewel shard is right around the corner, that in no time at all they are bound to find Naraku and defeat him once and for all. He would tell them that all of their efforts have been essential in getting this far, and that this is only a minor setback in a series of successes against long odds and harsh challenges.

But he doesn’t. Instead he sighs again and props his chin on one hand. “This sucks.”

Miroku musters the energy to chuckle. “You said it, my friend. Eight days and not a sign of a – “

Kagome perks up. “A jewel shard!”

Miroku frowns. “Yes, that’s what I was going to say.”

She shakes her head, a spark in her eye. “No, I mean I sense one! Nearby!”

Sango’s eyes go wide. “Could it be Kohaku?”

Inuyasha gets to his feet. “Only one way to find out. Which direction, Kagome?”

“The forest!”

He doesn’t have to be told twice. Inuyasha sets off at a dead run, ignoring the calls for him to wait. The possibility of some action after all this time is just too compelling. Besides, he knows they won’t be far behind.

As he enters the forest he pauses to test the air. He’s searching for a familiar scent: only three shards remain, so the presence of a single shard must mean Kohaku is nearby. But the scent drifting on the air isn’t Sango’s little brother.

_Naraku._

It's Inuyasha’s lucky day.

The trees blur past him as he follows his nose. Closer now, just a little farther. It occurs to him that if Naraku had come out of hiding, he must have at least a few dirty tricks up his sleeve. Despite his eagerness to end this once and for all, it was probably prudent to wait for reinforcements. He slows and looks around him, but his friends are nowhere in sight.

“Kagome? Miroku? Where are you guys?”

He hadn’t been running _that_ fast, had he?

He would have sworn that they were right behind him, but the forest is eerily quiet. Something sour settles in his gut as he scans the forest. He’s torn. He should wait, but he can’t stop now. Naraku’s scent is so close he can _taste_ it.

From a distance he catches movement, a blur of white. It had been a long time since Naraku had brought out the baboon pelt, but if he was feeling nostalgic, Inuyasha wasn’t about to deny him the pleasure of wearing it one more time before sending him to his grave. Tetsusaiga flares to life, but just as he is about to unleash an attack he catches a hint of red. And blue. Another scent drifts through the air, and he curses under his breath.

Perhaps it isn’t his lucky day after all.

He calls out to the approaching figure, but lowers his sword only a fraction – a threat is a threat.

“Sesshomaru! What are you doing here?”

In a flash of silk and silver hair Sesshomaru materializes at his side, his clawed fingers resting on Tokijin’s hilt. He spares only the briefest of glances for Inuyasha before turning his attention back to the forest. “I sensed Naraku. I came to destroy him.”

Inuyasha huffs. “Keh, well, you’ll have to get in line. I was here first.”

“A half-demon of your pitiful skill will never defeat Naraku.”

Inuyasha curls his lip. “I’ve had no trouble taking _you_ on before, so – “

“Now, now, boys. There’s no need to fight.” A sultry, hypnotic voice trickles down from the treetops. No, not one voice. _Dozens._ They seem to come from everywhere, surrounding them. But how was that possible? He takes another languid look around the forest, but he and his brother are alone.

Laughter echoes through the trees, musical and sweet. The sound of it gently penetrates his skull, and for a moment he forgets why he is here. The world feels as though it is under water, time slowing as he is buffeted by comforting waves of sound. The laughter fades and for an instant the voices coalesce into one.

“Up here.”

Seated on a limb high in the canopy of a tree is a human woman. Her clothing is plain, her hair in a simple bun. She would easily disappear in a crowd. The only notable feature is a lock of black hair that hangs on a cord around her neck, tied neatly with a navy ribbon. Delicate fingers wave coyly as she gazes down on them, her expression serene.

Inuyasha shakes his head, feeling as though it is filled with cobwebs. He glances at his brother, whose eyes are locked on the figure in the trees. With only half of the conviction he intended, Inuyasha says, “Stay out of this, lady. This is a family matter.”

The voices separate and blur. “Oh, indeed it is, Inuyasha.” Her smile is almost compassionate, motherly.

The sword in his hand droops for a moment before he catches it and levels it at her. _Damn, what's going on? Why can’t I focus?_ “Who are you and how do you know my name?”

Next to him, Sesshomaru mutters, “It seems your idiotic reputation precedes you.” The response seems disembodied, automatic, lacking the animosity he is used to. His brother blinks heavy lids over glazed eyes. _It’s not just me. Something is wrong here._

She replies before Inuyasha can respond. “Oh, I know all about you. And you as well, Lord Sesshomaru.” She purrs his name, and next to him his brother’s jaw goes slack. She fingers the hair around her neck. “Naraku has told me many tales.”

 _It's a trap. Of course it's a trap._ Strangely, the thoughts have no urgency, just stated facts that breeze across the surface of his mind like musings on the weather or the price of rice. He tries to remember exactly why he is here, why this information matters, and snags on the edges of something coherent. “Naraku…where…”

The compassionate look returns and her eyes hold Inuyasha’s without effort. “Naraku couldn’t be here today, but he gave me a wonderful gift.” From her sleeve she pulls out a shard of the Shikon Jewel. “And with this, I shall give a gift to you.”

Her smile fades and magic swells around her, pulsing and warm. Violet tendrils swirl past her, drifting down from the treetops to envelop them. They caress his face, rub soft circles on his back. From his periphery he can see the edges of her power teasing through his brother’s hair.

“Now listen, boys. Will you listen to me?”

He can feel himself nodding, but the action is outside of his control. Deep in the recesses of his heart he knows he should fight, or try to escape, but her voice is honey, thick sweet syrup smothering reason and soothing away his resistance. Tetsusaiga slips from his hands as she starts to sing, her words vibrating along the threads of her power to reverberate against his soul.

 

_“Sons of the Inu no Taisho,_

_Brothers but only in name,_

_Quarreling over a weapon,_

_And fighting to honor your name._

 

_You are prideful of skills you have worked for,_

_Ungrateful for god-given gifts,_

_Unwilling to see one another,_

_Too stubborn to mend age-old rifts._

 

_Now you shall come close together,_

_Become the object you hate._

_Rather than suffer each other_

_You shall suffer the other one’s fate!”_

 

The harmonics of her voice double, triple, shaking him to the core. What was once soothing becomes ear-splittingly painful and he can feel something warm trickle out of his nose. A distant part of him wants to raise his hands to cover his ears, but he is paralyzed. Higher and higher the pitch rises, and a pressure rises from deep within him, scraping against his insides like something is trying to claw its way out. It builds and pulls, pressing on his lungs until he can barely breathe.

Panic seizes him as he can feel the tendrils of her power snake their way down his throat, yanking at his core. With a final excruciating tug, something pops free.

He topples backward, and with a choke and a sigh the world fades away.

* * *

 

When he wakes, someone is shaking him. Roughly. Which only serves to amplify the feeling of glass shards in his brain.

“Inuyasha.”

_I know that voice… But that’s impossible._

His eyes crack open and he blinks against the bright shafts of light filtering through the trees. Everything seems too bright, and gods, why is everything so _loud_? Each tittering bird seems to be screeching, and each rustle of leaves grates on his ears. He takes a deep breath to try to center himself, and a riot of strong smells assault his senses. He hasn’t felt this way since the last time Miroku had convinced him to drink a little too much sake, but this is a hundred times worse.

He feels like he might be sick.

Someone leans over him. Someone dressed in red, with furry ears, and wide gold eyes. White hair and subjugation beads dangle in his vision.

“We have a problem.”

Inuyasha rolls over and throws up.

* * *

 

“Hurry, everyone!” Miroku shouts. “I think I hear something up ahead!”

Sango leans around Kagome, who is riding in front of her on Kirara. “Can you still sense the shard?”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s like it just vanished! I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

“Well, at least we know it isn’t Kohaku then.” Sango looks torn between relief and disappointment, but shakes it off. “What do you think caused that barrier at the edge of the forest? You don’t suppose it was Kikyo, do you?”

Kagome frowns for a moment but then shakes her head. “No, this magic felt darker. Whatever it was, I’m sure Naraku is behind it.”

Miroku spots movement and picks up his pace. “Look!”

As soon as he gets close enough to take in the scene, Miroku stops dead in his tracks. Clearly this barrier led to another dimension.

A bizarre one.

Fifty paces away he can see Sesshomaru, down on his knees, vomiting onto the nearest bush. Standing beside him is Inuyasha, a revolted expression curdling his features as he holds back the long lengths of his brother’s hair.

For a long moment the group just stares, unsure what to make of it. Finally Kagome breaks the silence.

“Inuyasha!”

Inuyasha startles and drops the hair. He kneels down to whisper something to his brother and then his eyes dart frantically before he grabs Tetsusaiga and bolts in the opposite direction. After a few long strides he leaps high into the air, only to come crashing down into a crowd of thorny shrubs.

A truly bizarre world indeed.

Sesshomaru unsteadily gets to his feet and gracelessly wipes a sleeve across his mouth. He squints at the trees and his nostrils flare once more before he doubles over again. Over the sounds of his retching, Miroku can hear Kagome ask, “Should we try to help him?”

Sango’s eyes shift between the two of them and mutters, “Which one?” Then she shakes her head. “Let’s just get Inuyasha and find out what happened.”

They catch up to Inuyasha as he finally extracts his fire-rat from the brambles. His eyes are wild and he takes a step backward as they approach.

Kagome reaches out to him. “Inuyasha, you’re hurt.”

He swipes at his face, paying only a brief glance to the blood smeared across the back of his hand before shifting his gaze between them once again.

The shallow cut is already showing signs of healing, but Kagome is persistent in digging in her yellow bag for her medical supplies. She holds out a bandage. “Here, let me help you.”

He leaps backward and snarls. “Do _not_ touch me.”

The group collectively recoils. There was _definitely_ something wrong here. Miroku puts up his hands in supplication. “Clearly you have been through quite the ordeal, my friend. Why don’t we return to camp and you can tell us what happened along the way?”

Inuyasha eyes them for a moment before nodding cautiously, and allows them to lead him back to where Shippo and Kirara are waiting. On the way they pass Sesshomaru, who sits listlessly on the ground. He doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t even look up as they walk past.

The group starts off toward the edge of the forest, with Inuyasha in the lead. Miroku doesn’t know what makes him do it, but on impulse he turns to survey the scene once more. This time golden eyes are watching him, and if Miroku didn’t know better, he’d think that Sesshomaru looked pained to see them go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right folks, settle in for a good old fashioned body-swap tale! Yes, it’s an old trope, but in a world where souls are easily removed and transplanted in other’s bodies, it just begged to be done. Enjoy!


	2. Measuring Up

Inuyasha watches his friends disappear into the thick forest, his brother’s last words to him echoing in his mind.

_“Meet here tonight. Do not give yourself away.”_

Stupid Sesshomaru. Who does he think he is, trying to tell him what to do? Those are _his_ friends. What right did he have to just go off with them?  If he even so much as _thought_ about hurting them, not even Tenseiga would be able to save him.

Even though he can no longer see them, he can still faintly hear the distant crunch of leaves as they march back toward camp. If he can still _hear_ them, he can still _find_ them, and he wants nothing more than to pick himself up off of the ground and chase after them.

He makes up his mind. To hell with Sesshomaru. Inuyasha would do this his own way, just like he always has.

He gets as far as finding his feet and taking a few wobbly steps in their direction before dizziness overwhelms him and he plops back down onto the ground. After a few long breaths, he tries again.

It takes ten paces this time before the forest blurs in his vision and he topples backward, armor rattling as it clangs against the forest floor.

Again. And again. By the sixth time he ends up on the ground, Sesshomaru’s pristine white pants are coated with dirt. With effort he sits up, detangling his arm from a few stray ropes of hair. He thinks he must be making _some_ progress at least, but when he looks back he finds that he’s barely made it out of the clearing.

This is getting him nowhere.

Even if he wanted to, he’s obviously in no state to follow his friends. And as much as he hates to admit it, his brother is probably right. This whole situation was too weird. They needed to figure this out, and fast. He hates the idea of having to work with Sesshomaru on anything, but this time it seems that he has no choice. In the meantime, he has bigger problems.

Inuyasha runs a hand over his aching head, more surprised than he should be that his fingers meet smooth hair instead of furry ears. A bird above him screeches and he cringes, trying to muffle the sound with one hand and the fur at his shoulder.

This sensory overload is _killing_ him.

He had always known that his brother’s senses were better than his, but he had no idea just how true that was. He hopes it’s just a matter of getting used to it, but right now it’s practically intolerable. When he sees the bird fly away he carefully uncovers his ears and is greeted by the sighing of the trees and nothing more.

No. There’s something else. Wind? No, _water_.

With deliberate slowness he finds his feet once more, and carefully lumbers in the direction of the sound of running water. He considers it no small victory that he stumbles and trips only twice. The scent of water grows stronger with the sound, and before long he is greeted to the blissful sight of a sparkling stream. He collapses to his knees along the bank, and automatically reaches his arms toward it.

Only one hand appears.

_Right. Damn._

He does his best to cup water with one hand and leans over to drink his fill. Finally the sour taste of bile fades from his mouth, and he focuses on the feeling of the cool liquid as it slides down his throat. The more he drinks, the better his head starts to feel. Maybe he was starting to get the hang of this.

The headache returns full force when a grating voice cuts across the water.

“Lord Sesshomaru! We’ve found you at last!”

The little toad imp that follows his brother everywhere scampers toward the opposite bank, leading a two-headed dragon by the reins. From its saddle a human girl waves enthusiastically.

He almost panics. He wasn’t _nearly_ ready for this. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to _do_? Then he shakes his head.

Really, how hard could it be to act like an arrogant asshole for a day? This could almost be fun.

Inuyasha does his best to stand without swaying, but his vision swims. _Okay, first things first._ Acting like a jerk for a day might be fun, but first he needs to get someplace where he can rest. Though he seems to be gradually getting used to these heightened senses, he needs to take it easy until he does.

Inspiration strikes.

Ignoring the pain in his head, he tosses his hair behind him and straightens his spine. He clears his throat and draws on his most imperious voice. “Jaken. We’re going home.”

_Not bad. I’ve totally got this._

Jaken is silent for a long moment. “Home, milord?”

He looks down his nose at him. “Yes. I require rest. Lead the way.”

Jaken looks uncomfortable. “Is - is this a test, milord?”

The little girl – Jin? Lin? – laughs from the saddle. “Of course it is, Master Jaken! Lord Sesshomaru doesn’t need rest! He’s tireless!”

Jaken laughs nervously. “Oh, haha, good one, my lord! For a moment I thought perhaps there was a secret base of which I was unaware!”

Great. So on top of everything else his brother is homeless. Not that Inuyasha could claim any better, but still. He thought Sesshomaru would have had some impressive holdings somewhere, being a lord and all. Wasn’t their father some great general? What the hell happened?

He had tuned out for a moment, but when he returns his attention to his companions he is not surprised to find that the toad is still talking. “… just around the corner is a shaded meadow, respite with colorful wildflowers. If my lord requires comfort – “

“Yes. That will do.” His head was starting to swim again. “Well done, Jaken.”

At the praise Jaken’s eyes practically sparkle. Apparently he needed to cut out the niceties if he wanted to stay in character. “Yes, my lord! Thank you! Right this way!”

Jaken crashes loudly through the shallow stream, dragon and little girl in tow. Inuyasha follows at a distance, trying to keep some space between him and the noisy creatures in his party, both demon and human alike. If he hadn’t had a splitting headache to begin with, he’s sure he would now, what with all of the constant chatting and singing. How did his brother manage not to kill these two? Sesshomaru wasn’t exactly known for his patience.

When the meadow opens up before them he gives a small sigh of relief. The little girl immediately hops off of the dragon’s back and sprints into a field of wildflowers so tall that they threaten to engulf her. Jaken chases after her, shouting her name – _Rin_ – and they both disappear into the foliage, leaving him in peace.

Finally.

He finds a tree and practically crumples next to it, grateful to be off his feet.  As he watches the flowers wave in the breeze, he takes inventory and tries to determine just what it will take to occupy his brother’s body – and his life – for a day.

 _One_. His brother is a full demon. There isn’t a trace of humanity in his blood, and the enhanced senses are only one of the obvious differences.  Inuyasha scans his body for just a moment and congratulates himself on finally starting to adjust to those. Well, he isn’t squinting against the sunlight anymore at least, and his nausea seems to be receding.  He takes a deep breath. As if to prove him wrong, the direction of the wind changes and the scent of decay from somewhere in the forest invades his nostrils. His stomach roils and he groans. How did his brother deal with this every day? Maybe that explained why he was always in such a foul mood.

 _Two_. Now that he was getting control of his senses he's becoming aware of other interesting side effects of being a full demon. He had always begrudgingly acknowledged that his bastard brother was powerful, but now he can _feel_ it. The menace of it swirls darkly in his chest, and tendrils of demonic aura creep off of him like smoke, spooling around him. At first he thinks he’s just imagining it, but when he moves his hand the vapors dance and dissipate. He doesn’t remember Sesshomaru looking like this except when he’s _really_ angry; he must be able to reel it in somehow. For a little while Inuyasha tries to concentrate on it, to get it under his command, but he only succeeds in making his headache worse. It resists him like an untamed animal, snapping at him for his efforts. He gives up. His brother was just going to have to be a little messier than usual. Hopefully no one would notice.

Untamed energy reminds him of problem number three: Tokijin. The sword at his hip pulses with agitation. Inuyasha knows better than to touch it, let alone try to wield it. Even if it wasn’t completely saturated in evil aura, that sword has a personal grudge against him. If Inuyasha can’t contain his brother’s demonic powers, he certainly isn’t going to try to take Tokijin for a spin. The last thing he needs is to be possessed by an evil sword when he isn’t even in his own body. With Sesshomaru’s powers, he’d be unstoppable if he went on a rampage. If anything tried to attack them, he’d just have to rely on hand-to-hand combat.

Which, of course, leads to problem number four. This ridiculous situation is all thanks to Naraku, which means that he undoubtedly plans to attack both him and his brother when they are in this state in the hopes of taking them down.  He needs to figure out a way to use this body to his advantage, and fast. Using the sword was out. He wracks his brain to try to remember his brother’s other attacks.

His mind snags on an option. _That might work…_

Using his only arm he pushes himself up and moves a few paces from the tree line. He looks to the meadow but Jaken and Rin aren’t in sight. He can still hear them, so they are still nearby, but he needed to make sure they wouldn’t see what he was about to attempt. Assured that he is alone, he takes a deep breath and flicks his arm out to the side.

Nothing happens.

He knows that his brother can produce that whip-thing, but how does he do it? He tries over and over, but he can’t seem to get it to form. He glances around again, knowing how ridiculous this must look and hoping that no one is watching. Maybe it was all in the wrist?

He cracks his knuckles and feels something rise to the surface. _Got it!_ He smiles and flings his arm out triumphantly.

Only instead of a whip, green liquid shoots from his claws and sprays across a patch of wildflowers, creating an acrid stench as they bubble and dissolve into toxic smoke.

He cringes. This wasn’t working. But it had to.

He concentrates harder, focusing the energy within him, visualizing the whip. He feels a shift, a solidification of power, and swings –

_-CRACK-_

He almost celebrates until he turns and sees three trees behind him topple to the forest floor, severed cleanly at their bases. He winces in pain and embarrassment as they crash loudly to the ground.

Jaken and Rin appear, pushing through the flowers and jogging in his direction. Jaken looks frantic. “Milord, is everything alright?”

The headache intensifies. He knows how stupid this must look. How can he even begin to explain himself? The moment draws out as he stares at them, struggling for something to say.

Rin rolls her eyes. “He’s _fine._ Lord Sesshomaru is just doing as he pleases! Isn’t that right?”

Stunned, Inuyasha can only nod weakly.

The little girl smiles. “Told you, Master Jaken!”

She grabs the toad’s hand and starts to lead him back to the field. When they reach the edge of the wildflowers he thinks he’s in the clear, but without warning Rin drops Jaken’s hand and spins back around, skipping in his direction.

She stops a mere two feet from him and panic strikes again as he wonders what she might want. But then she holds out a handful of yellow flowers and grins.

“I almost forgot! For you, my lord!”

Mutely he looks at the proffered bouquet. Did his brother actually accept _flowers_? The Sesshomaru he knows would just sneer at the impudence and melt them into goo with his poisonous claws.

But the Sesshomaru he knows also wouldn’t keep a human girl around that would offer him flowers in the first place.

The world spins a little, and not just because of his earlier exertions. Why _did_ his brother travel with these two? Jaken he might be able to understand; despite being annoying the little demon seemed to have some use, as he saw when they were searching for the black pearl.

But Rin?

He comes out of his thoughts long enough to look down at the little girl, the edges of her smile trembling with vulnerability. He doesn’t know what his bastard brother would do in this situation, but he knows what needs to be done nonetheless.

He reaches for the flowers and makes a show of bringing them to his face and inhaling deeply. Their sweetness is almost cloying and for an instant the pain in his head spikes, but he ignores it. He nods at her solemnly.

“Thank you.”

Her grin widens. “You’re welcome, my lord!” And with that she skips back to Jaken and pulls him, kicking and screeching, back into the field.

Inuyasha watches them long after they’ve disappeared into the flowers. Then he shakes his head. He has other things to think about right now. Protecting himself – and the others in Sesshomaru’s peculiar entourage – took first priority.

He keeps practicing, and by the time night falls he thinks he might finally be getting the hang of the whip. It’s nowhere near as controlled or graceful as when he had seen his brother use it, but it’s just as destructive. And that’s what mattered, right?

Without being told, Jaken collects firewood at dusk and uses his staff to light a fire. Rin settles in next to it, humming to herself while she weaves some of the flowers she collected into little crowns. As he watches the sky darken, he tries to keep a stoic face while he searches for an excuse to leave camp.

It’s true that he needs to find his way back to where this began so that he can meet with his brother to come up with a plan of action. But that isn’t his main concern right now. It should be, but there is another urgent matter that’s going to require his attention first.

He shifts uncomfortably against the tree at his back, hoping his companions don’t notice. Already he had been forced to make graceless adjustments after accidentally sitting on the impossibly long hair his brother insisted on keeping. At this point, however, he can barely bring himself to care. He has been ignoring the pressure for hours now, but there was no avoiding it any longer. One way or another, this problem needed to be resolved.

He really, _really_ regrets drinking all that water.

Part of him wants to just let go right where he is, just to spite his stupid brother and his perfect white pants. He imagines strutting across the Western Lands, dark yellow stains running down his legs, showing demons and villagers alike that the great Lord Sesshomaru isn’t potty trained. He can’t help it; the image of it is so absurd that a bark of laughter escapes his lips.

His companion’s heads swing in his direction and he immediately realizes his mistake. He overcompensates with a scowl and they quickly go back to ignoring him.

He’s tempted. He really is. The comedic effect alone might be worth it, except that would mean that he would be forced to walk around smelling like piss all day, and with these senses, it would be unbearable.

The pressure builds painfully and he realizes that if he doesn’t do something soon, that fantasy might just become reality. He has no choice; he’s going to have to take care of this.

Which means he’s actually going to have to touch…

He tries not to gag.

Commanding that his companions stay where they are, he pushes himself to his feet and heads toward the thickest grouping of trees he can find. Once he is a safe distance from camp, he goes about the complicated process of figuring out just how the hell his brother’s clothing works. With one hand it takes longer than his protesting bladder would like, but eventually he figures out how to untie the complicated obi knots and other fastenings of his brother’s attire. Finally, the ties on his hakama come loose and he glances down.

“…Son of a _bitch_.”

_Damn demons. God-given gifts, indeed._

When he’s finished, he vows not to drink anything else until he is returned to his rightful body. And when he is, he will casually ask Miroku if he knows any prayers to aid in forgetfulness.

After Jaken and Rin are asleep, he uses his senses to find the spot where he and Sesshomaru had been attacked by the witch earlier that day. Now that he’s adjusted to it, the enhanced sense of smell actually comes in handy. Despite the passage of time, he can still detect hints of his friends as he enters the clearing. Miroku. Sango. Shippo.

_Kagome._

His heart cinches. He hopes they are safe. Sesshomaru would protect them, right? The thought sours his mood. Sesshomaru might have his reasons to watch over a defenseless human girl, but he has no reason to protect his friends. The fact that they're _Inuyasha’s_ friends makes it even less likely that he would be concerned for their safety. If something attacked them…

But maybe he wouldn’t have to worry. After all, despite all his preparation nothing had tried to attack _him_ yet. Besides, the effects of this curse couldn’t possibly last long. Soon they would figure this out and everything would go back to normal. Right?

Inuyasha watches the stars through the canopy of leaves, and more than once he is sure that he dozes off. Soon enough, the stars begin to fade as dawn breaks along the horizon.

Sesshomaru never arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the next chapter, where we'll see how Sesshomaru is doing! 
> 
> (Spoiler: not well.)


	3. Grin and Bear It

Sesshomaru is _furious_.

If he had even a fraction of his power right now, the forest would be nothing more than a smoking, decimated memory. As it is, this pitiful half-breed body constricts his movements, his senses, and worst of all, his power. No, that isn’t quite true. His power isn’t just constricted. It is _gone_ , replaced with a different resonance, duller and weaker than anything he is accustomed to. Never in his life has he suffered humiliation half as deep as this. Naraku would _pay_ for this insult. As he storms ahead of his brother’s allies, he struggles to maintain his composure.

Composure. That was something else to be humiliated about.

Anger boils as he recalls his own reactions, his fear and confusion in the immediate aftermath of the spell. He did _not_ feel fear. He _should not_ feel fear. He is the Killing Perfection. But he had. And he had lashed out like a frightened animal, relying on base instinct.

Disgraceful.

He would not be making the same mistakes again. Just because he is trapped in these deplorable circumstances did not mean he would be overcome by them. He may have miscalculated once, but he would not be defeated. Not by something as ridiculous as this.

His breathing comes easier as he reasons through the situation. Naraku must be desperate to try something so brazen. His prior attempts to target him and his brother individually had failed, and his traps to pit them against one another had not provided sufficient results. So he had changed the game. Rather than face each of them at the height of their power, he had instituted a new kind of chaos, choosing to weaken and confuse before striking. A coward’s strategy.

Just like Naraku.

But his anger – his vengeance – would have to wait. There are more pressing concerns at the moment. Inuyasha’s allies are following close at his heels, and the monk had implied that he wanted an explanation. His earlier behavior had obviously been out of character, so he had to do his best to remedy the situation until that evening when he could meet with his brother to determine how to reverse this curse. He slows his footsteps just enough to allow the others to catch up.

The others say nothing, but he can feel their eyes on him, watching, wary. They are afraid of him. Afraid of _Inuyasha_.

Laughable.

And entirely counter to his purposes. He clears his throat.

“My apologies for snapping earlier. I was… not myself.”

The little fox riding on the monk’s back snorts. “You must still not be yourself if you’re apologizing. Did you hit your head or something?”

Inwardly, Sesshomaru curses. Another mistake. He should have known his idiot half-brother had no manners. Thankfully the monk saves him from responding.

“I’m sure what Shippo meant to say is that he is curious about what happened. We were prevented from coming to your aid by a powerful barrier. Kagome suspected dark magic.”

Sesshomaru thinks fast, trying to reframe the events and explain the unusual scene they had stumbled upon. He tries his best to keep his sentences short and his vocabulary limited. He hates himself a little more with each syllable. “…Naraku hired a witch and gave her a jewel shard. She tried to… poison us with a strong miasma, and Sesshomaru got sick. Then she disappeared. That must have been when the barrier broke.” It was the worst, most absurd tale imaginable. There was no way they would believe –  

“A witch? Naraku’s dirty tricks are endless, it seems.”  The monk rubs his chin in thought. “Though I must say I’m surprised he resorted to that, after the incident with Tsubaki.”

The demon slayer responds. “It must have been powerful magic to subdue Sesshomaru. I’ve never seen him like that.”

Kagome sighs. “I still feel bad for leaving him. Are you sure we shouldn’t have tried to help?”

Sesshomaru’s blood pressure spikes. They dared to pity him? His words grind between his teeth. “Sesshomaru will be fine. Don’t waste your time worrying about him.”

Shippo laughs. “There’s the Inuyasha we know and love!”

He hadn’t meant to, but he had apparently fallen into character. No one questioned that Inuyasha hated Sesshomaru. Which was as it should be. Still, trying to maintain this image would be more difficult than he would have believed. The less he had to communicate with these people, the better.

Kagome frowns. “Shippo. That isn’t nice.”

“What? That guy’s got problems – “

“Shh!” The monk had stopped and was holding out his hand for silence. “Did you hear something?”

The group falls silent and looks to one another. Sesshomaru stretches his senses but hears nothing. He tries to scent the air, but all he can detect are the motley scents from his nearby companions. Curse this inferior body! And then the wind shifts.

_There._

_Bear demon. Coming from the east. Fast._

Automatically he reaches for Tokijin, but instead his hand wraps around…

_Tetsusaiga._

Clawed fingers grasp the hilt, but no barrier crackles up to shock him. For the briefest moment he hesitates, worried that the fang will not transform for him, that the sword will see through the deception and refuse to serve him. For some reason, the thought of its rejection stills his hand.

But there is nothing for it. It is the only weapon at his disposal. And he isn’t about to depend on these _humans_ to defend him.

In one quick motion he pulls the sword from its scabbard, and it flares to life in his hand. Its energy swirls and sings, ready to fight for him. To fight _with_ him.

He allows himself the smallest of wicked smiles. Perhaps this body has its benefits after all.

There is no time to celebrate this triumph and its implications, however, as in that moment the trees to their left bend and break as an enormous bear demon announces its presence with a roar. From his periphery he can see Inuyasha’s companions brace themselves for the fight, but he refuses to let them steal his fun.

And this _would_ be fun.

“Stay back. All of you. He’s _mine_.”

Without hesitation he charges the bear, leaping into the nearest tree and swiping at the bear’s arm with the great sword before the branch gives way. The blade cuts through flesh like silk and the bear howls as his left arm is severed at the shoulder. If Sesshomaru were any less of a demon he might have suffered a lapse of empathy for the ironic wound, but as it is he continues his assault without mercy. He jumps to the ground and watches with satisfaction as the creature tries to rally against the injury. It rises to its haunches and emits a mighty howl, eyes blazing.

Sesshomaru just smirks. “Pathetic.”

Gripping Tetsusaiga with one hand, he raises it over his head. _“Wind scar!”_

Incredible power blazes from the weapon as he brings it down, gouging the earth and obliterating his enemy. When the dusts clears three deep ravines have been carved into the earth, and in the distance he can hear trees shudder and fall.

It was over far too soon. Elation and disappointment vie for prominence in his mind. The sword feels so right in his hand, but now there's no further need to use it. _Yet_ , he comforts himself. More demons are sure to come. If Naraku had thought to weaken him, he had gravely miscalculated. He is more than prepared for anything that abomination could send his way.

“Inuyasha…?”

Belatedly, he remembers that he is not alone. His companions are all staring at him, again with a mixture of awe and fear. As it should be, if he were himself. But he is not. A small part of him hates that this display of power would be attributed to his worthless half-brother, but not enough that it steals the thrill of the victory. Nevertheless, the danger has been eliminated, and now they could continue on their journey unhindered. He is about to sheath his sword and soothe his audience when Kagome’s eyes go wide.

“Inuyasha, look out!”

Too late his dulled senses pick up the threat from behind. _An ambush_. He swings wide with the blade, lashing out blindly, but Tetsusaiga meets no resistance. As he spins he sees his attacker, another bear demon equal in size and fury, and it is advancing quickly.

He moves to sidestep the powerful claws that swipe at him, but his reflexes are not his own. He is too slow. They connect, tearing through the thick fire-rat and ripping at his flesh. Distantly he can feel his body being thrown through the air and his breath is stolen from his lungs when his spine connects with the solid bark of a tree. Gravity does the rest as he plummets toward the ground, the hard-packed dirt smacking against his temple. He tastes blood as the world fades.

Pain wakes him, searing along his ribs and choking the groan in his throat. Dazedly, he mentally scans his body, assessing his injuries. Broken ribs. Lacerations. And a positively _splitting_ headache. He tries to reach up to examine the throbbing wound on his head, but gentle hands apply pressure to his uninjured shoulder, holding him in place.

“Don’t try to move, Inuyasha.”

He feels confused. “I’m not –“

The smiling face of the young priestess hovers into view. _He is._ The day’s events and the details of the curse swim to the surface of his mind. He _is_ Inuyasha, as far as they know. And apparently Inuyasha’s body heals much slower than his own.

She prompts him. “You’re not what?”

“Dead.” He finishes lamely. “Am I?” Perhaps he is. Perhaps this is all just some sort of horrible dream. Part of him hopes that it is.

His response earns him a laugh. “Of course not. Not that we weren’t worried for a minute. That bear demon really did a number on you.”

 _Indeed._ He thinks he should feel something, shame maybe, or embarrassment, but strangely nothing comes. As he blinks slowly he realizes that his surroundings are unrecognizable.

“Where – “

“We’re at an inn. Miroku convinced the owner that there was a significant demonic presence that needed immediate extermination. He was kind enough to let us stay here for the past three days while you were unconscious.”

“Three _days?”_ His heart jumps and he automatically tries to sit up. He regrets it immediately and hisses through clenched teeth. Apparently Inuyasha’s body reacts to pain more keenly than his own, as well.

“Stay still, Inuyasha.” Kagome eases him back down and rhythmically strokes his hair. Her touch is completely unwelcome but not entirely unpleasant. He allows her to soothe him for just a moment, then refocuses. He hates the defeat that seeps into his voice.

“It can’t have been three days.”

“Yep. Three days.” She smiles again. “Why, did you have something better to do?”

 _Yes_ , he thinks. Inuyasha was waiting for him. _Was_ being the operative word. Would he have stayed in place that long? Would he have moved on? For the first time in his life, he hopes that his brother will come looking for him. Because without his senses and not knowing where he is, Sesshomaru has no hope of finding Inuyasha on his own.

Assuming he had managed to stay alive that long, of course. Naraku had sent demons to destroy him only a handful of hours after the curse had been completed. There was no reason to believe that he wouldn’t have sent them after his brother by now as well. And while Sesshomaru was at least able to compensate for his weakness with Tetsusaiga, he had little hope that his brother would be able to master his considerable power and defend himself.

A terrible future flashes before his eyes, one in which he is forced to live out the rest of his days trapped in this feeble body, stripped of his power and purpose and stature. Forced to endure the centuries as a _half-demon._

He groans again, but this time it has nothing to do with the pain.

“Shh, it will be okay. Just rest.”

She resumes stroking his hair. Sesshomaru shuts his eyes and tries desperately to convince himself that things could be worse.


	4. Gone to the Dogs

A single drop of water is all it takes to jolt him awake.

Inuyasha’s eyes snap open, only to squint against the hazy shafts of sunlight which filter down from the trees. He rubs at the wet spot on his nose. How long had he been asleep? It’s obviously morning, but with the cloud cover it’s impossible to tell the exact time of day.

Another drop falls, this time in his hair. He smooths it away as he surveys the forest.

He is alone.

He must have drifted off waiting for Sesshomaru. Where the hell _was_ that bastard?

Another drop. Then another. By the time he stretches and hops down from the tree limb, the rain has begun in earnest.

He inches closer to the tree, shielded by the thick canopy above, and hesitates about his next move. Should he stay here and keep waiting? Just how long was he supposed to wait, exactly?  He supposes it’s possible that Sesshomaru had gotten lost, but it seems unlikely; their camp site wasn’t far, just a little beyond the edge of the forest. Even with Inuyasha’s sense of smell he should have been able to track his way back here.

Or maybe Sesshomaru was just running late? He wouldn’t put it past his friends to keep a wary eye on him after yesterday’s events, so perhaps he was just having a hard time getting away without blowing his cover.

Then again, he also wouldn’t put it past his brother to be late just to make him squirm.

Or maybe… maybe he wasn’t coming back at all.

Inuyasha snorts. No way. There was _no way_ Sesshomaru wouldn’t want his body back. He would come. He just has to wait a little longer.

With a hop he settles back into the branches of the tree, securing a suitable lookout. He drums his dangling feet against the trunk, keeping his eyes trained on the clearing.

The sun is almost at its peak by the time he starts to get angry, and past that when he begins to worry. Sesshomaru could be a rude prick, but he really should have been here by now. Since there was no way he wasn’t coming back of his own volition, there was only one conclusion.

Something must have gone wrong.

His heartbeat quickens as he leaps down from the tree. If something had happened to Sesshomaru, then something might have happened to his friends. Miroku. Sango. Shippo.

_Kagome._

He steels his resolve. Enough waiting around. If Sesshomaru wouldn’t – or, gods forbid, _couldn’t_ – come to Inuyasha, Inuyasha would just have to go to him.

Though faint, he can still detect the scent of his companions as he weaves past tall trees and dense brush. The forest protected the scent from the rain, keeping the trail intact. As he stalks toward his destination, he realizes that he no longer feels dizzy and his steps are steady. Everything is still a little more intense than he was used to, but it seems that the rest might have done him some good. It’s a small comfort in an increasingly unsettling situation.  

When he reaches the edge of the forest he no longer needs to be guided by his nose; he knows by sight which direction to go.  Out in the open the rain falls cold and thick on his shoulders, weighing down the ropes of his brother’s hair and the heavy silk of his sleeves. He hurries through the meadow until he finds a worn path and follows it until he finds the spot they were camping the night before.

The site is abandoned. The fire pit is there, water-logged and muddy, ringed with the stones Shippo had found along the bank of the nearby stream. But all of their gear is gone.

The _people_ are gone.

He glances around and his heart sinks. There's no denying it. There had been trouble here.

He jogs to the right and takes in the damage to the trees, the jagged gouges in the earth from Tetsusaiga’s signature move.  In any other circumstance he might have fumed about the fact that his stupid brother was using his sword, but he is too distracted by the blood.

And there’s _a lot_ of blood.

It was washing away in the rain, soaking into the mud, but there are immense pools of it. He kneels down to examine it.

At this point in their journey, all of his friends have shed some blood in the name of defeating Naraku. Reluctantly, he leans down and inhales deeply. His shoulders sag in relief. It doesn’t belong to anyone he knows. Whatever it was, it seems they took care of it.  

Absently he surveys the rest of the scene. There aren’t any other obvious signs of a struggles, except –

There. At the foot of a tree. More blood.

He hastens toward it, the stains protected by the foliage above. It had splattered across the trunk of the tree above his head and then pooled at its base. It’s fresh enough and thick enough that he doesn’t need to get any closer.

This is _his_ blood.

He’s smelled it enough to know. Sesshomaru – in _his_ body – had been injured. Badly, by the look of it.

His heartbeat quickens and his eyes swing wide, scenting the air for his companions, but finds nothing substantial. The rain has washed away any leads that he might have had, leaving him to stand soaked in the rain with nothing but a million unanswered questions.

Still, he tries. At even the tiniest hint of his friends he chases the trail, only to come up with dead ends. There are no obvious tracks, no signs of which direction they might have gone. It was like they had vanished into thin air. Which wasn’t entirely impossible; between Shippo and Kirara they very well _could_ have taken to the skies.  He prays to every god he can think of that this is what happened; that they escaped and are safe, somewhere.

But _where?_

The sky is beginning to darken by the time he gives up, exhausted and dejected. His brother’s armor creaks and sags against him, weighted down with the rain. With a heavy heart he turns away from the scene of the battle and begins to make his way back to the forest where Sesshomaru’s group is undoubtedly waiting for him to return.

He knew he shouldn’t have let his friends leave without him. He _knew_ it. He should have never listened to his stupid brother. He should have tried harder to follow.  And now…

Now his brother could be dead. His body could be ruined. His friends could be in danger. His friends could be…

No. He refuses to think that. They're fine. And his body heals much better than any human’s. It would be fine. He would figure out a way to find them, and all of this would work itself out.

But where is he even supposed to start?

Maybe if he just –

A high-pitched scream cuts across his thoughts.

Rin.

With speed even he is unaccustomed to, Inuyasha sprints in the direction of the sound, feet barely skimming the ground, adrenaline pumping as he readies himself for a fight.

And a fight is just what he stumbles upon when he breaks into the clearing.

The little girl is cringing behind the two-headed dragon as Jaken brandishes the Staff of Two Heads, flinging fire wildly at an enormous lizard demon. The toad imp barely rolls out of the way in time to escape its snapping jaws when it lunges for him.

Inuyasha’s hand automatically reaches for Tetsusaiga, but he stops himself just in time. _No swords. Hand-to-hand._ This is what he had practiced for. He could do this.

With a roar he crashes onto the scene, catching the demon’s attention. Jaken scrambles to his feet and scuttles back toward the dragon, holding out his shaking staff with wide eyes.

“My lord! Oh thank goodness you’re back!”

He glares at his opponent. “Protect Rin. I’ve got this.”

He takes a deep breath and concentrates, tries to feel the solidification of power at his fingertips. Just as the lizard demon charges at him, he cracks the whip with a flourish.  

And misses.

The grass sizzles where it strikes the ground, but the lizard dodges sinuously and continues barreling toward him. Inuyasha tries again, but he is too slow; the whip cracks right behind the lizard, catching the tip of its tail and nothing more. It barely flinches as it closes the distance, jaws open and ready to strike.

It hurts less than he thinks it might when the lizard’s teeth sink into his thigh, and the scent of his brother’s blood blossoms in the night air as it knocks them both to the ground. From across the campsite he can hear the collective gasp of his companions. He scrambles to sit up, punching wildly at the demon with his single fist, only to have it sink its teeth in further. Even when he stabs his claws into the demon’s left eye it refuses to release its hold.

His breathing is coming faster, shallower, and the scent of blood is growing stronger. It smears on the ground as he struggles pointlessly against the predator. His punches are becoming weaker, and he’s starting to feel dizzy.

_This can’t be the way that it ends. It can’t._

The demonic aura around him begins to crackle with life; he can feel it swirling and shifting all around and within him. For a moment he tries to get it under his control, afraid of what will happen to his companions if he doesn’t, but he’s too tired, too weak.

He lets go.

A tingling, electric sensation crawls across his skin, and his bones thrum with energy. Something was happening, but he is helpless to stop it. The power builds and he can feel his body stretch and pull, limbs lengthening and shifting beneath him. There is a blinding flash of light and the world tilts.

He finds himself on hand and knees… or rather, on three legs. He blinks confusedly against the rapid change in perspective, which now towers above the treetops. When he glances down he can see one furry claw-tipped paw digging into at the earth. The feral power within him churns, granting him renewed energy and strength. Wild, half-formed thoughts race through Inuyasha’s mind. _He’s like me. When he’s threatened, he transforms. I_ _transformed. I’m a giant -_

There is a pinch at his hind leg, and he turns his head to see the lizard demon still clinging to him for dear life, its one good eye wide and afraid. If he were in his normal body he might have rolled his eyes. _Stupid demon doesn’t know when to quit._

He tries to say so, but his voice is replaced with a growl so low and loud that it rattles the nearby tree limbs. With a powerful kick he shakes the lizard demon free, and it sails through the air, landing gracelessly at the edge of the clearing. With a leap Inuyasha is there, landing only a little unsteadily on an uneven number of legs, and snarls at the demon at his feet.

It tries to run, to scramble backward and escape into the forest, but with one quick motion Inuyasha swoops down and bites off its head.

The taste of the demon is foul and he promptly spits out the remains. With the threat eradicated he sits back on his haunches and pants. Far below him, Rin and Jaken come out from behind Ah-Un but aren’t brave enough to approach. They tilt their heads back to stare up at him, their jaws slack and eyes wide with awe.

Without warning there is a rush of power and light and the ground races toward him. He is unceremoniously returned to his feet, but pain shoots through his thigh and he stumbles a few paces before seating himself stiffly against a nearby tree. With some effort he twists to examine the wound left by the lizard demon.

The shallow cuts are already healing, skin knitting together as though it was never split. The deeper wounds, the ones that sliced though muscle, are still leaking small amounts of blood as his body rallies to repair itself. It hurts less than he thinks it should, but that’s not saying much: that dumb lizard really meant business. He fingers the tears in Sesshomaru’s pants and wonders if these will repair themselves too, much like his fire-rat, or if he’ll be dealing with a draft until he can find new ones.

The little girl sprints to his side, her hands clasped tightly beneath her chin. “Lord Sesshomaru! Are you hurt?”

_Hell yes I am._ But he manages to keep a straight face. If his brother was anything it was proud, and he needs to act like it if he wants to keep up this stupid farce. He makes a show of straightening out his legs, as though the stretch of the skin isn’t causing needles of pain to stab into his limbs.  

“I’m fine. It was nothing.”

Rin smiles, her eyes moist. “Oh, I knew you would come through, Lord Sesshomaru! I told Jaken he didn’t need to worry, you always come save us!”

Next to her, Jaken sputters. “ _I_ was never worried! I told _you_ not to worry, ignorant girl! If you had been following him as long as I have, you would know that no measly demon could possibly hope to defeat our great Lord Sesshomaru!”

The little girl rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say, Master Jaken.” She shifts her attention back to Inuyasha. “Is there anything I can get you, my lord? Some water to clean your wounds, perhaps?”

He shakes his head. “No. You shouldn’t leave camp. It could be dangerous.”

She nods. “Of course.” She looks at her feet. “I’m sorry to cause you so much trouble, Lord Sesshomaru. Thank you for rescuing us.”

Inuyasha frowns. “It’s not your fault. It was Naraku.”

Jaken gasps. “Naraku? How can you be sure?”

Inuyasha inwardly winces, but then draws on his most arrogant voice. “Who else would be foolish enough to attack this Sesshomaru?”

Jaken rubs his chin and nods furiously. “Of course! You are so clever my lord. That fiend is always sending his weak minions after you, too cowardly to face you himself!”

_You don’t know the half of it._ Clearly, Naraku wasn’t going to waste any time in trying to finish what he started with the dark priestess. More demons were sure to come, and he needed to be ready. Inuyasha nods. “Indeed. Which is why we must be careful. Get some rest; we leave first thing in the morning.”

Jaken settles against the dragon’s thick hide and props his staff on his shoulder. “Where will we go next, my lord?”

_To find my friends. To find my brother._

_To kill Naraku._

At the small smile that creeps across his face, Jaken yelps and cowers behind Ah-Un.


	5. Learning Curves

Sesshomaru had been right. Inuyasha’s body healed _much_ slower than his own.

It’s another two days before he is even able to sit up without assistance, and three more before he can take slow, stiff walks around the room. In the interim the priestess with the strange clothing is vigilant about changing his bandages and generally fussing over him. Her seemingly endless need to put her hands on him was irritating and jarring at first, but by the third day he barely even notices. Expects it, even, in equal measure with her chatter as she changes his bandages.  It’s unclear how Inuyasha would respond in this situation. Would he rebuff her? Welcome her ministrations? Grumble? The latter seems most likely, so in between permitting her to examine his wounds and accepting cups of water he makes an effort to grunt his thanks – but no too kindly.

What was it about human girls wanting to nurse him back to health?

Except that he wasn’t himself. If he was himself – which he was, but he wasn’t – he would have flatly refused the persistent assistance. If he was himself, he wouldn’t have needed the assistance to begin with, because those demons would have presented no challenge at all.

Besides, the priestess – Kagome – wasn’t interested in helping _him_. It was Inuyasha that she worried over. Although she _had_ shown concern about him – or rather, the person she thought was him – after the barrier was broken…

An odd feeling wedges itself under his ribs at the thought, one that he refuses to name but that he files away for further examination once this absurd situation was over and he was far, far away from gentle hands and sweet smiles.  

Which of course he has no interest in. She is a puzzle, nothing more. Something to consider in the long hours of his convalescence with nothing but his mind to entertain him.

The priestess and her misplaced sympathy.

There was no reason for her to want to help him; in fact, it was hazardous to her health. He was her enemy. He had tried to kill her. On more than one occasion. Perhaps he hadn’t been trying his hardest a few of those times, but still. Not only that, _she_ had tried to kill _him_. She probably _had_ been trying her best, despite being completely outclassed and outmatched. And yet when she had seen him sick in the woods, she had voiced her concern.

Mentally he shrugs. What did it matter anyway? Humans were fickle, incomprehensible, _emotional_ creatures. Reason and logic were useless in trying to understand them, if one could hope to ever understand them at all. Sesshomaru had long since stopped trying to understand Rin’s whims, her excitement at the sight of common wildflowers or her tears over dead butterflies.

And yet he was curious. Surely there was no harm in being curious. It pleased him and amused him and irked him in equal measure to witness the mercurial way the little girl flitted through the world. He supposed this was no different. So long as he was forced to inhabit this inferior body, he could allow himself to be curious about Kagome as well.  

The door to their borrowed room slides open, and he is at least a little horrified to feel a twinge of disappointment when the person who appears is not the priestess, as expected, but the monk. He pulls the screen shut again and casually leans against his staff.

“How are you feeling, Inuyasha?”

Sesshomaru winces as he sits up, muscles and bandages stretching with the effort. “Better today.”

Miroku smiles. “Glad to hear it. Perhaps you will be up for some light travelling this evening?”

“Travelling?”

“Not far. This inn boasts an impressive garden, and since it is such a mild night Kagome suggested we dine outside this evening. She and Sango begged some coins from me and are in the process of procuring a meal as we speak. Kagome told me to tell you that she is going to try to acquire your favorite as an incentive to get you out of this room and into the fresh air.”

As if he needed an incentive. He was beyond bored with staring at the wooden planks of the ceiling. But that was beside the point.  “She is… quite kind.”

Miroku actually laughs. “Are you only just noticing that?”

He frowns and mentally chastises himself. “… Of course not.”

Miroku just chuckles. “You are correct, though. Her soul is quite pure.” He sighs contentedly.  “Ah, if only my heart weren’t promised to Sango, I would be honored for her to bear my children.”

Sesshomaru doesn’t even know how to respond to that, so he just points to the corner where Tetsusaiga and his fire-rat robe are resting. “I should get dressed.”

Miroku helps him to shrug on the robe and once again he has to stop himself from lashing out at those trying to help him. Especially when he stands and sways on his feet and is forced to lean on Miroku for support. Just a little longer, he thinks. Somehow, he would find a way to get his body back. As they shuffle along the hallway, Sesshomaru fantasizes about what he will do first when his power is returned.  

Killing Inuyasha and putting him out of his misery seemed like a very viable option.

Because there was no way Inuyasha could be dead. In the long, unstimulating hours of his recovery he had decided that the hanyou was much too stubborn to die at the hands of Naraku. He might be too stupid to locate his own friends with any expediency, but he was definitely too stubborn to be dead.

Besides, killing him was Sesshomaru’s job. Just because Naraku was too pathetic to take him out didn’t mean that Sesshomaru suffered from any such weakness.

When they arrive in the garden, Sango, Kagome, and the little fox demon are spreading a blanket out across the grass underneath a large magnolia tree. The monk had been correct; the gardens were indeed impressive. He inhales covertly, only to be reminded that his ribs are not entirely healed and that his senses are not his own.

The fox notices them first. “Look who’s finally up!”

Kagome turns and her eyes fill with concern. “Inuyasha! Does it still hurt that much? Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…”

He doesn’t know what makes him do it – surely he does not care what _she_ thinks – but he shrugs off Miroku for the last few steps and seats himself without assistance. The muscles in his torso are screaming, but he knows how to keep a straight face. “I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure…”

The fox rolls his eyes. “He said he’s fine! Let’s eat, already!”

They arrange themselves on the blanket and the two women begin to unpack the basket in the center. A large covered bowl is the primary occupant, and Kagome practically beams as she lifts the lid with a flourish.

“Ta-da!”

It’s unclear why she is so ecstatic over a bowl of noodles, but her smile is radiant as she ladles a portion of the meal into smaller bowls.  

“I know that soba aren’t exactly the same as instant ramen, but you’ll have to wait until I can go back home to get more of that.”

 _Instant ramen?_ He takes the bowl and proffered chopsticks mutely, realizing that he is now confronted with an entirely new problem.

They expected him to eat.

 _Human_ food.

It wouldn’t be the first time, but it would certainly be the first time in centuries. His Lord Father had taken a keen interest in it when he was young and insisted that he try some. At the time he had thought nothing of it, but as an adult even the _smell_ of it brought back conflicting and confusing emotions.  A pang of longing for his human ward works its way across his heart; at least _she_ was content consuming raw foods. He tries to squash these feelings as he shallowly inhales the scent of the steaming noodles in front of him.

_Repulsive._

But he can feel her eyes on him, pleading for his approval.   _Inuyasha would love it. You are Inuyasha. Act accordingly._ He forces his lips into something approximating a smile. “Smells great.”

The smile she gives him is dazzling, and his eyes drop back to his hands. His _hands_ – it was certainly a good thing that he _was_ Inuyasha in this moment; in his own body, this meal would have proved much more difficult to tackle. He cradles the bowl in one palm and situates the chopsticks in another. Sparing a glance at his companions, who are happily slurping their supper, he takes a deep breath and plunges ahead.

He tries not to choke as the food slides into his mouth. _Chew. Swallow. Repeat. You are the Lord of the West; you have defeated far greater enemies than a bowl of noodles._

As the spices settle into his stomach, he redoubles his promise to kill Inuyasha. Twice, if possible. Surely Tenseiga could be persuaded to aid him in such a worthy cause…?

Suddenly, Kagome’s head perks up. “Jewel shards!”

Miroku frowns. “Plural?”

The fox groans around a mouthful of food and rolls his eyes. “Oh no…”

The branches of the magnolia above them creak as a mighty gust of wind overtakes the garden. A shower of leaves cascades to the ground, and with distaste Sesshomaru plucks one out of his soup. Belatedly, he picks up the scent of wolves and bristles. He wasn’t exactly in top form, but he could always be persuaded to shed some vermin blood.

Except that he left Tetsusaiga in their room.

Before he can curse his lapse in preparation, a cocky young wolf demon materializes next to their blanket and drops down on his knees next to the priestess. Her chopsticks fall to the blanket as he grabs her hands and covers them with his own. Sesshomaru fumbles his own chopsticks as he tries to comprehend the scene.

“Kagome! What danger has this mangy pup subjected you to this time?”

Her cheeks turn a dusty shade of pink. “Uh, we’re fine, Koga. We were just sitting down for a meal. We don’t have much, but if you want – “

He tightens his grip on her hands and leans closer. To Sesshomaru it’s obvious that he’s testing her scent, but from the deepening color of her cheeks Kagome must have a different interpretation. The wolf frowns. “But I smelled blood! Filthy dog blood, but still.” The wolf leans around her and gives him a dirty look.

A growl rises automatically in his throat, but thankfully Inuyasha’s body isn’t equipped for it. Kagome intervenes. “We were attacked by two bear demons a few days ago. Inuyasha got hurt, but he’s okay now. Really.”

The wolf snorts. “Taken down by bear demons, huh? This runt can’t ever hope to protect you like I could. I still say you should come with me, where I can keep you safe from Naraku and his minions. You are _my_ woman, after all.”

There is an odd beat of silence, and absently he notes that the rest of the group is looking at him expectantly. However, at the mention of Naraku, Sesshomaru’s ears perk up. He and Kagome speak at once.

“Uh, that really won’t be necessary, Koga…”

“Have you any news of Naraku?”

All eyes swing in his direction, and the little fox’s jaw drops. Kagome frowns. Sesshomaru has no idea what the problem is, but their emotional reaction was far less important than gleaning information about their shared enemy. He levels his gaze at the wolf.

“Well? Out with it. Do you have news or not?”

Koga studies him for just an instant before he settles in next to Kagome. She squeaks as he casually drapes an arm around her shoulders. “It’s about time you came to your senses, mutt.” Sesshomaru scowls, but the wolf just shrugs, pulling Kagome closer as his grip on her tightens. “I’ve been searching everywhere, but there’s no sign of him. Not too long ago I thought I sensed him in the forest to the west, but the trail was stale by the time I got there.”

Miroku finds his voice. “Inuyasha encountered a witch hired by Naraku in those woods. It must have been her that you detected.”

Koga quirks a brow. “A witch, huh?”

Though a mouth full of noodles, Shippo says, “Yeah! Sesshomaru was there too! She made him real sick.”

Koga laughs. “Can’t say I’m surprised. That guy’s all show. He has a pretty pedigree, but he’s still just another dog. Now a _real_ demon – “

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Sesshomaru’s voice – _Inuyasha’s_ voice – comes out low and dangerous. Koga actually has the gall to look surprised.

He nuzzles up to Kagome. “Don’t be ridiculous, dog face. I just got here. Kagome offered me food, so it would be rude to refuse.”

He reaches for her bowl of noodles, but Sesshomaru leans over and knocks his hand away.  In one quick motion he captures the wolf’s wrist and yanks him forward, forcing him to meet his gaze. His words grind through his teeth.

“Leave. Now.”

Koga’s nostrils quiver and his smug smile disappears for an instant. Then he jerks his hand back and smirks. “Okay, okay. No need to get so serious.” He turns back to Kagome and captures her hands once more. “Farewell, Kagome. If you change your mind – “

_“NOW!”_

The wolf neatly evades the swipe of his claws, and Sesshomaru has to use all of his reserve not to grimace against the pain that shoots up his side. With one final careful look, the wolf disappears with a gust of wind.

Miroku’s eyes shift between Sesshomaru and Kagome. “That was… informative.”

Sesshomaru is about to pick up his bowl and continue choking down his disgusting food, but he is pleased to see that the gale upended his meal and the broth is slowly soaking into the blanket. He couldn’t possibly be expected to finish it. He almost sighs in relief, but an angry female voice interrupts him.

“Thanks a lot, Inuyasha!”

At first he thinks it’s because his dinner is ruined and is about to retort that it was no fault of his own, but when he looks up Kagome’s expression is positively thunderous. The reaction would clearly be out of proportion, leaving him utterly confused. The wolf, perhaps? Had he frightened away an ally? Cautiously he asks, “You wanted him to stay?”

She huffs and crosses her arms. “Of course not!”

None of this makes any sense, and he has little patience for pretense. “Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is – the problem is that – he – you – “ Her sputtering is cut off with a guttural groan. “Arrggh!”

Sesshomaru quirks a brow. “You wanted him to leave. He left.”

“That’s not the point!”

Her voice is still rising dangerously, but he doesn’t know how to counter it. He doesn’t even know what he’s fighting against.  “Then what _is_ the point?”

She recoils as though he had slapped her. Though she looks just as angry as she did before, now her eyes water and her chin quivers. She takes a deep breath, and for a moment he thinks she must be trying to center herself so that she can explain herself more calmly.

Then she balls her fists and shouts, _“SIT!”_

The beads around his neck spark with power and suddenly he is yanked to the ground, yelping involuntarily against the pain that shoots up his side and through his head. Cold noodles squish underneath his right cheek. Behind him he can hear stomping feet retreating toward the inn.

The little fox clicks his tongue. “You’re so stupid sometimes, Inuyasha.”

Sango gets to her feet. “I’ll go after her.”

The fox slurps down the last of his noodles and hops up as well. “I’m coming too!”

As they disappear from view, Sesshomaru thinks that not only will he kill Inuyasha twice, now he will be sure to do it _slowly_.

The monk helps him sit up and offers him a scrap of cloth from inside his robes. Sesshomaru wipes his face.

“I take it back. She is not kind at all.”

Miroku chuckles and shakes his head. “I have to disagree, my friend. Kagome has a big heart. Much of it reserved for you.”

 _Oh_ _gods_. “…Me?”

Miroku pats his shoulder, but removes it when Sesshomaru winces. “Have a drink with me. It will help ease your pain.”

He frowns at the non-sequitur. “What?”

“Trust me.”

With a wink he saunters off toward the inn, and Sesshomaru is left alone in the gardens, surrounded by the remnants of their ruined meal.

The pieces are clicking together at a breakneck pace. The preferential treatment. The careful nursing. The sweet smiles and gentle hands. The indignation that he did not protect her from another male. There are a million reasons why he should have seen it before, but had dismissed it. _Wanted_ to dismiss it. The priestess didn’t just care about him, she had _feelings_ for him.

No, not him. _Inuyasha_.

The line was getting precariously blurry, but the thought sobers him. His half-brother had somehow managed to secure the affections of this priestess. _Two_ priestesses, if Jaken’s explanation of his sealing were to be believed. Why anyone would be attracted to the pathetic half-demon is beyond his comprehension, as is the peculiar constriction in his chest when he considers it.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of clinking glass. Miroku returns carrying a crate of bottles filled with clear liquid. Sesshomaru might not be keen on human food, but he was slightly more familiar with human drink. Not fond, per se, and not indulgent, but familiar nonetheless. He eyes the crate suspiciously.

“Where did you get that?”

The cork of one bottle pops free and Miroku offers it to him. Even from here the sharp tang of alcohol burns the inside of his nose. “The owner of the inn was so grateful for the successful exorcism that he made a gift of this sake. The rest of these will fetch a nice price at the market, but there’s no harm in indulging a little in rare comforts, wouldn’t you say?”

Against his better judgment, clawed hands close around the bottle. Miroku smiles and sets to work on another cork. Lacking proper cups, the monk surprises him by taking a swig directly from the bottle. He coughs and blinks rapidly, thumping his chest with his free hand.

“Master Mushin might not be impressed, but it will certainly do the trick.” He tips his chin in Sesshomaru’s direction. “Go ahead. It will do wonders for your perspective.”

Perspective, indeed. A purported holy man who takes long draughts of sake and has lurid fantasies about women. A priestess enamored with a half-demon. A wolf demon infatuated with human girl. Sesshomaru never thought he would miss Jaken’s predictable, overblown bootlicking. At least Jaken understood his place in the world, and kept to it. Everyone in Inuyasha’s universe was a little too complicated for his tastes. 

He shrugs and tips the bottle to his lips. He could use a drink.

The liquor burns on the way down, settling with a warm tingle deep in his gut. The taste of it is foul, and the smell is even worse. But the way it numbs his senses and buzzes through his throbbing head makes it worth it. Before he knows it he is draining the bottle and reaching for another.

Miroku quirks a brow. “Thirsty, my friend?”

Sesshomaru rolls his eyes – a gesture he has not allowed himself in centuries – and wedges the tip of one claw under the cork, popping it free. With a look of defiance he takes a long pull from the bottle.

The monk just laughs. “I can’t say I blame you. It’s been a most interesting evening.” He nurses his own bottle. “You mustn’t be too angry at Lady Kagome. She cares for you deeply.”

Sesshomaru runs his tongue along the backs of his gums, which are starting to feel pleasantly numb. “She has an odd way of showing it.”

Miroku clicks his tongue. “Have you already forgotten how she cared for you over the past few days? The meal she worked so hard to plan? The dedication she has shown to you over the course of your journey?”

The words swim past his ears, and he thinks distantly that perhaps this body had other weaknesses he had not considered before consuming a bottle and a half of sake. Still, even as a half-demon, Inuyasha _must_ have a greater tolerance for alcohol than his human compatriot. This was nothing. He half listens as he drains the second bottle and reaches for a third. He fumbles it only a little, and when half of the cork breaks off and floats on the surface of the sake he blames the craftsmanship rather than his unsteady hands.

It occurs to him that the monk is still talking, and though he tries to pay attention, the words fade in and out of his awareness.

“The thing about women is… if you really want to impress… someday you might consider… give you some pointers, man-to-man…”

If he had the energy, he might have laughed. What was he _doing_ here? How had his life possibly come to this – injured, robbed of his powers, drinking away his troubles in a human village with a human man, and talking about petty problems with _women_ , of all things?

The only thing that makes sense in that scenario is that he would want to drink.

So he does.

He drinks long past the point where his companion can keep up, long past the time when the lights around the inn wink out as patrons go to sleep. He even drinks past the point where he wants to kill Inuyasha for this preposterous situation.

Because, like it or not, he _is_ Inuyasha. Now, in this moment, certainly. But perhaps for the future as well. The truth – which the sake was helping to dredge up, along with all of his doubts – was that there was no guarantee that Inuyasha would find them. There was no guarantee that he was even alive, despite his unprecedented luck thus far in his journey to defeat Naraku.

But even assuming that he was alive, what then? What brilliant plan would they devise to break the curse? Despite their differences, they were both fighters, and this was not a problem that could be fought through. Much like himself, he is certain his brother lacks any knowledge or talent with spells – one reason it had been fortuitous that Jaken had offered himself to Sesshomaru’s service. But even Jaken couldn’t hope to break this curse. No, for this they needed knowledgeable, powerful, and willing allies, and those were in short supply for a multitude of reasons.

So that was that. He was Inuyasha, and Inuyasha was him. The alcohol burning in his blood numbs out any reaction he might have had.

It was what it was.

Just like when Father died.

Just like when he went to war and his brother did not come to his aid because he was sealed to a tree, and the Western Lands suffered.

Just like when he lost his arm.

He takes another long, scorching drink from the bottle in his hand, swallowing until it empties. He coughs and shakes his head. There wasn’t enough sake in the world to convince him to tread down _those_ particular self-piteous paths. He doesn’t think too hard about how easy it is to reach for another bottle and pop another cork, soldiering ahead like any good warrior is supposed to do.

After all, he had long since learned that regret was worthless. It changed nothing. His strength lay in changing himself in response to whatever came his way, to adapting or forcing others to adapt. He was strong. He could move forward, with force if necessary.

Force he could understand. Anger, revenge, malice, pride – these were active emotions. They drove him forward, kept him alive, kept him from focusing on the failures of the past.

Because the past is meaningless. The future is his to create. And if this future was now his future, then so be it. Just because he had been humbled by these circumstances didn’t mean that he couldn’t also maintain his dignity.

Or so the sake tells him.

And because he likes what it has to say, he indulges in a little more.

He isn’t sure how or when it happened, but his view had changed at some point, and in the wee hours of the morning he finds himself sprawled out in the grass on his back, blinking heavy lids at the sky. Rolling his head clumsily to the left and right reveals that Miroku must have called it a night and gone to find the demon slayer with whom he was so enamored. The view also suggests that he would be in for a rough morning, considering the number of empty bottles strewn about the lawn.

Well, that’s part of his future now, too. He had made those choices, and he would accept them. Learn from them. And move on. Just like everything else. There was nothing else to do now but lie back and enjoy himself as the stars burned blurrily in his vision.

Through hazy half-formed thoughts he detects the sound of doors opening and closing slowly; an obvious attempt to minimize noise in the quiet garden. Someone was sneaking in the courtyard late at night. _Scandalous_. He’s tempted to laugh, though he isn’t sure at what. The scandalous nature of the fact that he - a drunk hanyou - is currently on display in all of his inebriated glory in said same courtyard doesn’t cross his mind. He simply allows himself to be curious.

_Curious. Yes. I was curious about something earlier…_

A whispered voice cuts across his musings. “Inuyasha?”

Ah. Now he remembers.

The grass crunches as feet approach. Above him Kagome takes in the scene and her hands find her hips. Her low voice drips with chastisement.

“Inuyasha! Have you been drinking?”

He glances at a half-empty bottle clutched precariously in one fist for confirmation.  “Yes. It appears I have.” The words feel like marbles in his mouth. He congratulates himself on not slurring them.

Her eyes widen. “Are you… are you _drunk_?”

He nods and his vision swims a little. “It appears so.”

She growls in frustration and then reaches down to tug on his arm, securing warm hands around his wrist. “Inuyasha, get up this instant and come inside! You can’t sleep here!”

He frowns. “But I wasn’t sleeping.”

“That’s not the point! Come on, get up before anyone sees you!”

Half-remembered thoughts from earlier bubble to the surface of his mind. “Let them. I have no regrets.”

“What?” She drops his arm and rubs her temples. “Inuyasha, I’m going to count to three, and if you don’t get up, I swear I’m going to – “

He cuts her off. “Use the beads? Try it. But I take no responsibility if I vomit on your shoes.”

She glares at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He manages a smug smirk. “No, I think it’s _you_ who wouldn’t dare.”

She sputters. “W-What”?

“And that’s another thing,” he waves a finger authoritatively in the air, and as he does his sleeve falls back. For a moment his is distracted, staring at the limb as though it belongs to someone else.

Stripes. There should be stripes. Where were his markings?

He brings the arm closer to his face and squints. “What’s wrong with my hand?”

Above him he can hear Kagome groan. “You really _are_ drunk, Inuyasha.”

Inuyasha. That’s right. This _was_ someone else’s body. But it also wasn’t. He flexes the fingers, which move at his command. He blinks the eyes that provide him with a unique perspective of the world. He concentrates on the heart that beats inside him, preserving his life. These things should not have been possible, and yet the evidence is undeniable. This was truth. This was who he was.

He refocuses and glances at the woman impatiently towering over him, arms crossed. “Perhaps I am, but that’s not the point. The point is…” He searches for what he was saying before he lost focus. Perhaps if he sat up… that was it. _Sit._ He gropes for the beads around his neck and finds them on the second try. “The point is these. I didn’t appreciate that earlier. It was… uncalled for.”

Her jaw drops at the statement, but when she speaks there’s still an edge to her voice. “Well, I didn’t appreciate it when you… oh, never mind! We can talk about this later! Come on!”

She grabs for his sleeve this time, pulling and managing to lift his shoulder off the ground a fraction. The motion is nauseating; he finds that he much prefers to stay right where he is. With a jerk of his arm he endeavors to dislodge his sleeve from her grasp, but he succeeds in disrupting her balance as well. She stumbles forward, and he grunts as she lands heavily across his chest.

Pinned beneath her, he does his best to blow her hair out of his face. “I think perhaps _you_ are drunk.”

With a squeak she starts to scramble off of him, gripping at his chest and shoulders, her frantic efforts only making things worse. His arms freed, he grasps at her upper arms. “Stop.”

She freezes, face inches from his, hands planted against his chest. Her eyes are wide in what looks like abject horror, and for an instant her expression reminds him of the countless opponents he had faced – right before he sliced them in two.

He doesn’t know why, but he laughs out loud.

Too late he notices the flush that is steadily creeping up her throat, and when he releases her she quickly sits up and averts her eyes, hugging her knees. “What’s so funny?”

He tries his best to cut off his laughter, but is only moderately successful. “I – that was… unexpected.”

She huffs. “Well, if you would have just come inside – “

“I’m not going anywhere. Go back inside if you like.” As an afterthought he adds, “Or you can stay.”

She gives him a long look over her shoulder. “And why should I stay out here with you? I’m still angry with you.”

He shrugs and refocuses on the canopy of stars above him. “Suit yourself.”

For a long while she doesn’t move, just stares at the blooming bushes to her right. Then her shoulders sag. “Fine. Just for a little bit. But then we’re going inside.”

He recalls his long days of recovery and curls his lip in distaste. “Why? It’s much too stuffy in that room.”

She snorts. “Well, at least that room has a _roof_.”

“Overrated.”

Despite her professed irritation with him, she quirks a teasing brow in his direction. “What, you don’t like roofs now? What’s so great about being out here?”

He doesn’t know what makes him do it. Later he would tell himself that it was just an effect of the intoxication, or an attempt to mess with his brother, or even just another facet of his curiosity. It was certainly _not_ because the challenge in her eye amplified her pretty little human features, or that he had any desire for her closeness. And yet the impulse hits him all the same.

He gives her a smirk. “See for yourself.”

Her face clouds in confusion, but then he reaches out and grips the back of her shirt and _pulls_. She rocks backward and her legs kick in the air for just a moment before she lands next to him on her back with a thump. He hadn’t intended for her to land on his arm, but there’s no graceful way to retrieve it now.

It is what it is.

“Inuyasha! What did you do that for?”

He waves dismissively at the sky. “Look.”

She tilts her head back and he can hear her sharp intake of breath as she takes in the sea of stars above them. Next to him he can feel her relax incrementally. “Oh. Well, I guess this is… nice.”

He allows himself a small smile. “Indeed.”

It was. It _was_ nice. But it _shouldn’t_ be nice. He did not _feel_ nice. Ever.

But he was not himself. He would probably never be himself again.

For a long time they lie in companionable silence, gazing at the sky. After a while the stars don’t swim so much in his vision; the alcohol must finally be starting to burn off. Soon he would probably be able to remain upright long enough to make it back to the inn.

Except for one thing.

Though he has pretended not to notice, Kagome has been gradually inching closer to him. He blames his curiosity for letting the farce continue – after all, if he waited long enough, he would be able to observe just how bold she truly was. It isn’t until her head comes to rest lightly on his shoulder that he finally decides to comment.

“I thought you were angry with me.”

“I was. I am.”

He frowns. “Which is it?”

She sighs, sounding defeated. “Neither, really.” At his silence she continues. “It’s just that most of the time you get so mad at Koga, but this time it seemed like you didn’t care. I know you have this thing with Kikyo, and I can’t compete with that – “

“Kikyo?” He knows that name. The woman who saved Rin when he battled against the Band of Seven. The woman who had fallen off a cliff into a river of miasma when Naraku had emerged from Mount Hakurei.

Irritation edges her voice. “Yes, Kikyo. Don’t tell me you’re too drunk to remember _her._ Powerful, beautiful priestess who pinned you to a tree when this whole mess started? Came back from the dead when Urasue stole a part of my soul to give back to her? Looks exactly like me? Ringing any bells?”

So _that_ was the woman responsible for his brother’s sealing. He had had his suspicions, but it was comforting to have them confirmed. Then his mind snags on a detail and he shakes his head. “She doesn’t look anything like you.”

Small fingers grip the fabric at his chest, and her breath catches. “Inuyasha…”

He turns his head to look at her, and finds that her face is dangerously close to his own. “What is it?”

Her eyes search his, and there is a wild, desperate hope in them. “Do you mean that?”

At this proximity he has the opportunity to study her features, to compare them to his fleeting memories of the other priestess. There were similarities to be sure: the same bright eyes, the same narrow mouth, the same pointed nose. But the woman he had met was cold, unfeeling, unsmiling. He remembered that much, as she had been much like himself. But the woman here in front of him is warm and turbulent and compelling in a way he can’t explain. There could be no confusing them.

“Yes. You are nothing alike.”

Before he can ask why this is so important, she fumbles at his jaw and presses her mouth to his.

The traitorous human heart in his chest stutters and his eyes pop. The only movement between them comes from her hand as it trembles in his hair; her eyes are squeezed shut and her breath seems frozen in her throat.

Before he can even begin to process her actions she is pulling back, and her eyes blink at him once before her expression falls.

“I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have – Why did I – I’m so sorry!”

She starts to push back from him, inadvertently sending pain shooting up his side as she presses on his mending ribs – he was _definitely_ starting to sober up, though if it was from her kiss or the assault on his injury he couldn’t tell. He winces and sucks air through his teeth.

Her voice reaches a fever pitch. “Ah! I didn’t mean to do that! Did I hurt you? Here, let me – “

He grabs the wrist that is reaching for him and she stills. Carefully, he shifts and props himself up on one elbow so that he can look her in the face. “Kagome.”

Her expression is so fragile she looks as though she might shatter in the slightest breeze. “Inuyasha?”

He had only meant to tell her to stop struggling. He had only meant to tell her to keep her voice down so that she didn’t wake every patron staying at the inn. He had only meant to have a moment to let his thoughts catch up to his racing blood.

Instead he tugs on her wrist and pulls her back in.

It’s only as he’s gently nipping at her lower lip that it occurs to him: He is kissing a human woman. Of his own volition. History is repeating itself right in front of him, and his great and terrible Father’s bones were probably shattering in the underworld from the force of his laughter.

He pulls Kagome closer. He is nothing like his father.

But he is also certainly _not_ himself.

Listening to her little sighs he wonders if this is a mistake. _Would this blow his cover? Is this something Inuyasha would do?_

Mentally he shrugs. _He_ was Inuyasha now. And he would do as he pleased.

* * *

 

The morning dawns bright, and when he cracks open his eyes he is immediately forced to squint against the harsh sunlight. His head hurts, and he has the feeling it has nothing to do with his prior injuries. There is a foul taste in his mouth; the remnants of old spices and sake. He runs his tongue over his fangs and wishes that he had a glass of water.

Beside him something shifts. Something warm and soft that snuggles against him.

Something that should not be there.

Panic strikes as he recalls the hazy details of the previous evening.  He quickly pats down the length of his body, relaxing only a fraction at the fact that his clothes are exactly where they are supposed to be. Just as he is wondering how to gracefully extract himself from her embrace a dark shadow blocks out the sun.

The monk stands before him, radiating smugness. The fox demon riding at his shoulder looks far less amused.

“Looks like _somebody_ had a good time last night.”

There is no clever explanation, no valid excuse. The scene they stumbled onto involved him surrounded by empty bottles of sake with their young companion draped across his chest. Any conclusions they could draw would no doubt be at least somewhat correct. What was the word he had been thinking when she crept across the lawn? _Scandalous._

_These are the consequences of your choices. Your curiosity. Own them. Learn from them. Move forward. _

He doesn’t get a chance to ponder the implications or defend his dignity, however, as in that moment the girl at his side stretches and wakes.

“Mmm, is it morning alr – “

She freezes as she opens her eyes and takes in the fox with his crossed arms and the monk covering his smile behind his sleeve.

“What are you – I mean – It’s not what it looks like!”

It is _exactly_ what it looks like. And they all know it.

Miroku manages to retain a modicum of composure and waves a placating hand in Kagome’s direction. “Now, now, Lady Kagome, there’s no need to be ashamed – “

But she isn’t paying attention to the monk. She gets to her feet and points an accusing finger at him. “You! This is all _your_ fault!”

He sits up with a start, ignoring the creak of his ribs. “ _My_ fault?”

Her face matches the color of his robes, but if it’s from embarrassment or anger is impossible to tell. “Of course it is! I mean I… But then you… If you hadn’t…!  Arrggh! _SIT!”_

And history repeats itself yet again, but this time it’s in the form of her stomping back toward the inn in his periphery as the beads spark and his face hits the dirt.

Everything hurts. He groans as he tries to push himself onto hands and knees, and Miroku lends him a hand as the little fox stares him down. When he finds his feet he discovers that he can stand on his own, at least.

The monk winks at him. “Didn’t I tell you that you’d gain a change in perspective?” At his stunned silence, Miroku gestures back toward the inn. “Come on, you’ve got to be hungry. The headman has invited us to breakfast.”

 _More human food_. His stomach rebels at the memory of the previous evening’s meal, but it’s difficult to tell if his nausea is from the drink, the revulsion at his companion’s culinary tastes, or in hunger. Probably a combination of the three. This body – _his_ body – obviously needs sustenance, and copious amounts of alcohol were not going to be sufficient to meet those needs. Before he can make any decisions – or excuses – his body alerts him to other needs.

He musters as much dignity as he can. “Go ahead. I will be there shortly.”

Concern flashes across Miroku’s face and he glances at all of the empty bottles littering the grass. “Are you feeling alright, my friend?”

He nods. “Yes.” He turns in the direction of the woods. “I’ll be right back.”

Miroku waves over his shoulder. “Okay! But if you take too long Shippo here will eat your share!”

As soon as the doors shut behind them his unhurried gait turns into a sprint. He’s barely made it past the tree line before he is tugging at the ties of his hakama, grateful not to have to remove any cumbersome plates of armor. Just as he is about to claim blessed relief he glances down.

And sighs resignedly.

_Damn half-demons._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You will either love me or hate me at this point, but honestly, I couldn’t not have Sesshomaru blunder into Inuyasha’s infuriating love triangle. Confession: I’m a bit of a multi-shipper in this fandom. I love some Sess/Older!Rin, and some InuKag, but I read a ton of SessKag. I couldn’t possibly resist the opportunity to play with two out of three of those. 
> 
> This chapter was so much fun to write. There’s just something so challenging and entertaining about trying to rattle around in our favorite demon lord’s head – I feel like there’s a lot more conflict and depth there than he reveals on the surface. Between the two brothers, I think Sesshomaru would have a much harder time adjusting to these circumstances, at least emotionally. Of course, he’s a still a big ‘ol ball of denial. Because he is such a challenge to write, it’s a precarious balance to keep him from tilting OOC, so hopefully you’ll cut me some slack given his general identity crisis and level of inebriation. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!


	6. Kiss and Tell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon and dirty humor ahoy.

“There. That oughta do it.”

As he mutters his triumph under his breath, Inuyasha snaps the whip back, satisfied at the completeness of the kill. He stretches his senses, but this should be the last of them. For now, at least.

His shoulders sag slightly as he steps over the fourth corpse of the day. Or was it the fifth? They were already starting to blend together in his mind, and it was only early morning.

Who could blame him? It had been a long week.

Scratch that. It had been a long _month_.

Well, almost anyway. Three weeks ago Inuyasha had been cursed to inhabit his brother’s life and body, and since then it had been nothing but nonstop excitement.

Assuming, of course, that one defined excitement by sheer number of attacks from lower level demons. If so, then by all accounts this has been the most rip-roaring time of his life. Naraku’s minions were endless, and it seemed that they were exceptionally savvy about finding Inuyasha and his companions. At this point he’s just about as skilled with the poison whip as his brother, and he should be – he’s had more than enough practice.

He looks over his shoulder at the toad imp and little girl huddled by the bushes alongside the dirt road and gestures with a tilt of his head. “Come on. It’s safe now.”

Rin smiles broadly and him and begins to skip out from behind the shrubbery. “You were amazing Lord Sesshomar – oh!”

A stray root catches her toes and he winces as she tumbles to the ground. Jaken laughs, but Inuyasha silences him with a scowl.

“Are you hurt, Rin?”

She sits up and examines her scraped knees and looks up at him with glassy eyes. Though her smile remains, her voice wavers. “No my lord! I’m fine! See?”

He would applaud her bravery, but she has already proven it just by virtue of the company she chooses to keep. A thin line of blood trickles down one shin and he shakes his head.

“We should see to those cuts. Come here.”

She scrambles to her feet, eager to follow his commands. With his single arm he scoops her up. “Which way to the stream?”

She points east, her voice confident. “That way, my lord.”

“Very good.” He knew that, of course. He can hear the water. His gaze shifts to his retainer. “Jaken.”

The toad imp straightens his spine and fumbles his staff. “Yes, milord?”

“Stay here and watch Ah-Un.”

Without waiting for a reply he sets off at a brisk pace toward the sound of the stream, and the little girl is uncharacteristically quiet. When they arrive he sets her down gently along the bank and surveys the area for something with which to wash her wounds. Coming up empty, he shrugs and dips the end of his brother’s fur-thing into the water.

As he methodically cleans the scrapes and delicately picks out bits of gravel with his claws, an image of his mother’s gentle hands as she did the same for him tickles at the edges of his memory – only to be replaced with the absence of her touch after she died. Shaking off the melancholy, he occupies his mind instead with what he can remember of Kagome’s lessons on human healing. In his most authoritative voice, he says, “It’s important to keep these clean or they will get infected. If that happens you could get sick. You heal much slower than Jaken and I, so there’s more risk if you get hurt.”

The little girl watches with wide-eyed fascination as he finishes the task. He wishes he had some of Kagome’s bandages, but this would have to do. Satisfied with his work, he rinses the blood off of the fur in the running water and crouches in front of her. “Do you understand? You have to take care of yourself if you want to live a long and healthy life.”

Her eyes go wide. “Lord Sesshomaru wants me to live a long time?”

His brow furrows. “Of course.”

Her eyes fall to her lap and she fidgets with her fingers. “If I do, would I be able to stay with you as you build your empire?”

 _Empire?_ He represses a shudder, imagining a world ruled by his icy prick of a brother. But that was beside the point. Just to mess with Sesshomaru he almost makes a promise to the little girl, but reins himself in at the last minute. It wasn’t worth hurting her feelings if Sesshomaru had other ideas.

“We’ll see.”

The tentative response is apparently more than she could have hoped for, and her eyes shine. “Oh thank you, Lord Sesshomaru!”

He startles as she launches herself at him, her little arms coming up around his neck and her face buried into the fur at his shoulder. Without thinking, he reaches out and squeezes back. The catch of her breath tells him that he must be woefully out of character again, so he quickly disengages and stands.

“Jaken’s waiting for us.”

And Jaken _is_ waiting, or rather holding his ground, as yet another demon has found its way to them. Unlike the lizard demon that gave him so much trouble weeks ago, this one is easily dispatched by the flames spewing from the Staff of Two Heads, reduced to smoking rubble. Jaken swipes a tiny hand across his sweaty brow and startles when Inuyasha and Rin emerge from the bushes.

“Thank goodness milord has returned! These insignificant demons are never-ending!”

Inuyasha nods in weary agreement. Yep, if one counted all the demon attacks, the excitement never stopped.

Except at night. The nights are generally boring.

And lonely.

As chatty as his companions are, for the most part they seem to talk _around_ him, or _about_ him, but rarely _to_ him. His bastard brother may have preferred this silent superiority, but it was driving Inuyasha crazy not to be able to actually participate in the conversations going on around him. He’d spent more than enough time on his own in past decades, and it was more than enough isolation to last a lifetime. Having these two around was like having the illusion of friends without actually having to put in the effort. Or gain the rewards, for that matter.

Because they weren’t really his friends, were they? Rin and Jaken were admirers, servants, sycophants, followers – but the equality and vulnerability required for friendship was entirely absent. Even surrounded by constant praise and prattle, Inuyasha is as good as alone.

His _brother_ is as good as alone.

The thought sobers him. For how long? What had happened to him after their old man had died? Did he have anywhere to go? Had there been other followers, or had he just been roaming around by himself all this time until these two showed up? Inuyasha can’t help but remember his own days of fending for himself, the long days and even longer nights as he yearned for someone to talk to, for someone to understand him.

Inuyasha snorts, settling further against the tree at his back. Immersed in their own conversation around their campfire, his companions don’t even notice. Sesshomaru would _not_ thank him for his pity. The bastard deserved it, anyway. Hell, he probably _liked_ being alone. Surely there was no one good enough to be worthy of his regard.

And yet right in front of him is evidence to the contrary. It made absolutely no sense.

Rin stretches out next to Ah-Un and stifles a yawn. With a gleam in her eye and a giggle in her voice, she leans over and nudges his retainer.  “Story time, Master Jaken!”

 _Ugh. Story time._ As if it isn’t enough that for the past three weeks Inuyasha has spent his days fighting off bothersome demons, he’s had to spend his evenings fighting off boredom and incredulity as Jaken waxes poetic about his master’s exploits. And every evening it’s the same old song and dance.

Almost on cue, Jaken rolls his eyes. “I thought you didn’t _like_ long stories, troublesome girl.”

She is not to be deterred; Rin knows that with just enough flattery she will get what she wants from the crotchety demon. “I don’t.” He opens his mouth to retort, but she cuts him off. “ _Except_ at bedtime. They help me sleep. And you just have so many exciting stories to tell!”

Jaken grumbles. “How could exciting stories possibly lull you to sleep? Humans make little sense.”

She giggles. “You must have a special talent, Master Jaken. After all, _your_ storytelling _always_ manages to put me to sleep.”

He sputters at the lighthearted jab. “Insolent child! No more stories for you! I don’t know why I’ve even bothered to share them; Lord Sesshomaru’s tales of conquest are far too sophisticated for you to appreciate.”

She catches the edge of his flailing sleeve and gives him a pleading look. “Please, Master Jaken? I was only teasing. Your stories are magnificent.”

He gives her a sidelong look, a clear sign that he is about to cave. “Magnificent, you say?”

She snuggles next to the dragon, arranging the threadbare blanket she had pulled from Ah-Un’s saddlebag. “Oh yes! What could be better than a story about Lord Sesshomaru? And _your_ travels with him, of course,” she adds, almost as an afterthought. “You’ve been so lucky to follow him for so long.”

Jaken’s chest puffs with pride, and Inuyasha knows that she’s got him. “Indeed I have. Lord Sesshomaru trusts me implicitly, and I have been diligent in cataloguing his many triumphs.” He scratches his chin. “Which shall I tell you tonight? Perhaps the tale of the pesky fire demons who – “

“No! Not that one again.”

He crosses his arms. “Fine. Then I shall tell you of the time Lord Sesshomaru effortlessly battled fifty ogres – “

“Ugh! Not that one again, either!”

He throws up his hands. “Then which do you want? Enough with this guessing game.”

She bites her lip and spares a quick glance for Inuyasha. “I want to hear the story of the panther demons.”

If he’d been in his own body, Inuyasha’s ears would have perked up. The panther demons? The ones he and his brother battled together? The ones he was so angry about?

It’s Jaken’s turn to protest. “ _That_ one? You’ve heard it a dozen times!”

She huffs. “Because it’s one of my favorites! Please, Master Jaken?”

Silently, Inuyasha wills Jaken to acquiesce. If he thought it wouldn’t be out of character, he would have demanded it. Story time might not have been his favorite time of day in the past weeks, but _this_ is a tale he wants to hear.

Jaken hesitates. “Wouldn’t you rather hear something more… I mean, there are many other tales that better illustrate Lord Sesshomaru’s greatness – not that you weren’t exceptional then as well milord! I just meant – “

“Jaken.” The imp cringes at the tone of his voice. He doesn’t know it, but his dithering has given Inuyasha just the opportunity he needs to press his advantage. “Rin wants to hear the story of the panther demon tribe.”

Jaken yelps. “Yes, right away!” He clears his throat mightily and Rin looks on with an air of excitement. Inuyasha tries to keep his own excitement under wraps, feigning aloofness as he shifts a little closer.

“Not long ago, the panther demon tribe descended from the West, bent on resurrecting their master and seeking revenge - “

Rin frowns. “No! You must start at the beginning!”

Jaken returns her frown. “This _is_ the beginning.”

“It can’t be! You’ve always said the panther demons wanted revenge, but you’ve never said _why_.”

Jaken shifts uncomfortably. “That story predates my travels with Lord Sesshomaru. Though I was there another time fifty years ago when the panther demons attacked, that was not the true origin of the conflict. Only Lord Sesshomaru himself could tell the tale from the beginning with any authenticity.”

His companions turn their gaze to him, eyes cautiously hopeful. Even if he knew the facts, Inuyasha is positive that Sesshomaru does _not_ tell stories. He redirects, his throat dry. “Tell what you know, Jaken.”

“And from the very beginning this time!”

“As you wish, milord.” He takes a deep breath. “As I have heard it told, eons ago the West was a thriving, prosperous land governed by the Great Dog General. He was known throughout the region as a just ruler and a fierce warrior, and he commanded the respect of all demons living under his protection. Peace was more plentiful than it is today, and the Great Dog General watched over his lands from an immense fortress where he lived with his wife and son. Our Lord Sesshomaru was still very young at this time.”

Rin’s eyes sparkle in the firelight, obviously enraptured by a story about Sesshomaru’s childhood, and Inuyasha can’t help but be curious himself. “He was young then? How old was he? Was he little like me?”

Jaken scoffs. “Much older than you will ever live to be, though by demon standards he was not yet considered an adult. Isn’t that right, milord?”

Inuyasha has no way of knowing, but he nods all the same. Jaken would never know the difference.

“As I was saying, peace was more plentiful in those days, in no small part because few dared to challenge the power of the Great Dog General. But there were still some who were foolish enough to try. The panther demons descended upon the West, intent on conquering all other demons. The Great Dog General insisted on putting a stop to their reign of terror.”

Contrary to her assertions that Jaken’s stories put her to sleep, Rin is completely wrapped up in the tale. “Oooo, those mean old panther demons! How dare they! Were they defeated?”

“Yes. Though capable of fighting, our Lord Sesshomaru was instructed to refrain from battle as he was the sole heir to his father’s lands and title. The Great Dog General defeated the leader of the panther tribe and decimated his forces. The remaining members fled the West, but cursed the General’s family and vowed to have their revenge.”

“Oh, so _that’s_ why they were so angry!”

“Indeed. Or so I have heard it told. Then, fifty years ago – not long after I had joined Lord Sesshomaru – the cats returned. The Great Dog General had long since passed, bequeathing his title, lands, and fortress to our master.”

Inuyasha’s confusion mirrors Rin’s. “His fortress? You never said that Lord Sesshomaru had a _fortress_! Can we go there someday?”

“Patience, child!” Jaken sends her an admonishing glare, and then sends what looks like an apologetic one to Inuyasha. “He did in fact have a fortress, though he was rarely able to enjoy its comforts. The wars had begun, and Lord Sesshomaru had many responsibilities to prioritize. While he was seeing to negotiations in a neighboring province, the panther demons attacked once more.”

Rin gasps and covers her mouth with both hands. Eyes shining, she whispers, “What happened then?”

“As soon as Lord Sesshomaru’s subjects learned of the coup, many demons loyal to his father appeared to support him. As they strategized, I too attempted to do my part to serve Lord Sesshomaru.”

“You did?”

“Of course. I had known of Lord Sesshomaru’s quest to locate his father’s sword, which was rumored to have been bequeathed to his bastard half-demon son, Inuyasha. I tracked him down to… “ He glances at Inuyasha and quickly averts his eyes. “To enlist his aid, or perhaps try to take the sword by force. Imagine my surprise when I learned that Inuyasha had been sealed to a tree, the victim of his own stupidity by falling in love with a mortal priestess!”

“Did you try to free him?”

Jaken hesitates, and Inuyasha raises his brows. He gulps. “I – well, his sword was nowhere to be found, and I couldn’t be sure if it was stolen or if he had traded it away, not knowing its value. Waking him would have been the only way to know for sure.”

Rin smirks. “So you _did_ try to free him.”

Jaken nods. “Not that it mattered. The holy magic binding him was too strong, even for the likes of me. Accepting defeat, I quickly returned to Lord Sesshomaru to inform him of my discovery, and shortly afterward the demons of the West marched to war.”

She cowers under her blankets, pulling them up to her chin. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes! The demon army was instructed to hold the front lines while Lord Sesshomaru confronted their leader, Touran, and her band of powerful demons. It was a spectacular battle, and Lord Sesshomaru was glorious as always. However, the demons fighting for him were not nearly as powerful and many gave their lives to help win back the West.”

Rin leans forward, chewing her lip. “But they were victorious in the end, right?”

Jaken sighs. “Though many would consider it a victory, in the end the panther demons retreated. But they did not return from whence they came. Instead, they fled further northwest, regrouping and claiming a piece of the West for themselves. With heavy losses in the Western coalition, Lord Sesshomaru declared that it was unwise to roust them at that time.”

Rin’s face clouds in anger. “You’re lying! Lord Sesshomaru would never give up like that!”

“He didn’t give up! He made a strategic decision, something you – a human child – could never understand.”

Her gaze swings to Inuyasha, her expression pained. “It can’t be true, my lord. I know you wouldn’t just go home and let them occupy your lands.”

Jaken explodes. “He didn’t just _go home_! After the panther demon’s siege there was no home left to return to!”

Inuyasha’s world bottoms out as the statement hangs in the air.

Rin’s teeth click shut and her chin starts to tremble. “I’m so sorry, my lord, I didn’t know.”

The response is automatic. “It’s fine.”

But it isn’t fine.

Inuyasha hadn’t paid any attention to it at the time, but now Jaken’s words to him when he was trying to rescue Kagome from the panther demons echo loudly in his memory _. Of course Lord Sesshomaru had never expected you to come to his assistance, but victory would have been so easy if we had the Tetsusaiga, the sword that was forged by your father…_

Inuyasha’s sealing hadn’t just affected _him_. It had affected the West, and all the demons living in it. His own quest – first to become a full demon, then to become human – had changed the landscape forever.

 _It isn’t my fault_ , he rationalizes. _I didn’t even_ have _Tetsusaiga back then, what help could I have been?_ Besides, Sesshomaru – or demonkind in general – had never done _him_ any favors. They had ostracized him just as much as his brother had.

The thought doesn’t alleviate the sense of unease as much as he would have liked.

Though Inuyasha is still floored by these revelations, Jaken has moved on. “…So you see, even with new established territory, the panther tribe was unsatisfied, and, as you know, fifty years later they were determined to resurrect their leader and attack the lands to the east…”

That’s right. That time they wanted the East.

Because the West was no longer worth taking.

Jaken’s narrative continues, but Inuyasha is only half listening. He would like to say it’s because he knows that part of the story, and knows how it ends. But in reality the tale weighs heavy on him.

Suddenly he gets it. The quest for empire. The determination to steal his sword. It wasn’t _all_ because of these events - Sesshomaru had been a power hungry, hateful jackass long before the panther demons demolished his home and knocked him down a few pegs – but it certainly didn’t help. And even if he didn’t mean it, even if it might not have made a difference, at least a little part of it was Inuyasha’s fault.

It might not be fair, but he gets it.

Eventually the story concludes – with more than a few dramatic and flattering edits – and his companions drift off to sleep.

The embers of their fire burn out long before Inuyasha joins them.

* * *

It’s not even noon and already the number of slain demons is creeping toward the double digits. After the brief and fitful sleep he had gotten the night before, he is in no mood to deal with Naraku’s minions and he cracks the whip with more force than necessary, slicing a bull demon cleanly in two.

By midafternoon the number has reached almost two dozen, and Inuyasha is ready to pull out his brother’s hair in frustration. This was _ridiculous_. There had been no trace of his friends, but even if there had been the constant attacks kept him from making any progress. Unsure of which direction to go, he had chosen all of them: for weeks they had been travelling in gradually widening circles, hoping that if his friends had in fact taken to the skies he would eventually stumble on where they landed and follow their trail from there. So far he had turned up nothing, and his patience was at its breaking point.

By late afternoon he is past fatigued and beyond irritable. Neither bodes well for him when he senses a strong – and familiar – demonic presence heading in their direction.

Inwardly he groans, but outwardly he is the picture of composure. “Jaken. Protect Rin. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

“Yes, milord! But what’s wrong?”

Before he can respond a gust of wind ruffles his hair and heavy robes, and one of the last people he wants to see comes sauntering out of the woods. The interloper leans against the trunk of a tree and gives him an infuriatingly coy look from behind a brightly colored fan.

“Yo.”

“Yo yourself!” Jaken yells from behind him.

“Jaken.” The toad imp scrambles a few feet back and stands in front of Rin, staff at the ready. Inuyasha turns his attention back to the current threat, hoping he has the energy to fight her off, hoping that this wasn’t the next stage in Naraku’s plan.

Trying to keep the weariness out of his voice, he confronts her. “What do you want, Kagura?”

The fan lowers, revealing a pout. The expression is so out of place it immediately sets him on edge. “Why the rude greeting, Sesshomaru? I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

He cracks his knuckles. “Oh? And why’s that?”

Pushing off of the tree, she struts closer, swaying her hips. Confusion grows as he watches her every move. “Because we had such a _fun_ time last time I visited. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

He narrows his eyes at her. “I wasn’t aware that Naraku’s filthy incarnations were capable of having fun.”

She chuckles to herself, stepping ever closer. He doesn’t know what her game is, but he raises his claws in warning. She ignores them entirely. “I assure you that I can, though even if I couldn’t, I know _you_ can. You seemed to enjoy yourself thoroughly.”

She can’t possibly mean what he thinks she means.

Can she?

The world tilts at the implications. It was bad enough that his brother had conspired with Naraku once upon a time to steal Tetsusaiga, but he thought that maybe – just _maybe_ – he had changed since then. Just a little. Just enough.

He doesn’t know why, but his sense of disappointment equals his disgust.

He is so distracted that he doesn’t even notice her approach until she’s already too close for comfort. He startles and growls. “Careful, Kagura.”

She doesn’t even pause. “Careful? Why would I want to be careful? You know I like it a little rough.”

He blanches. “What did you say?”

She gestures offhandedly with her fan. “Oh, what I said doesn’t matter. Let’s talk about what _you_ said. What was it again?”

She taps her fan against her chin, making a show of thinking about it as she strides right up to him, toe to toe. If this were a trap he was doomed, because he’s so stunned by this brazen behavior that he couldn’t react if he wanted to. Horrified, he just stares at her stupidly, and sees with perfect clarity the moment her eyes brighten with recollection.

“Oh! I remember now!”

And with that she leans in and whispers something so perverse and so foul that he can feel the heat of his blush all the way to the tips of his brother’s pointed ears.

Just when he thinks he can’t be more shocked, she trails a light finger along the stripe of one cheek and leans in to press her mouth against his.

Behind him Jaken shouts at Rin to avert her eyes, and the sound of it spurs him into action. Kagura leaps back just in time to avoid the swipe of his claws, laughing hysterically as she pulls a feather from her hair and takes to the skies. She’s gone before he can even comprehend what just happened, let alone follow.

He blinks at the sky, his jaw agape. _Kagura_ just kissed him. She kissed his _brother_. And she said he…

He scrubs vigorously at his mouth with his sleeve and tries not to gag.

“Jaken!” He says, his voice too loud in his own ears. “We’re leaving.”

The toad imp obeys, and wisely keeps his silence as he trails behind his furious - and nauseated - master.

Night falls, and the group settles into their evening routine. However, they are unusually quiet as Rin feasts on melons picked from a nearby field, and they forego story time in favor of turning in early. Inuyasha knows they are probably as equally bewildered as he is by the day’s earlier events, but he can’t be bothered to care. The revelation last night had been more than enough to keep his head spinning, but _this_ was over the top.

And to think that he had almost felt sorry for that bastard.

It doesn’t help that he’s exhausted. By the time they stopped for the day he had lost count of the number of corpses that he had left in his wake. Unlike the previous days there was no satisfaction in his growing proficiency with his brother’s powers. He might have defeated an impressive number of demons, but they were nothing. Right now there was a particular wind sorceress that he wanted to get his hands on.

His mind twists on the phrase. He hadn’t meant that. He had only meant that he wanted to wrap his hands around her throat –

The words she whispered to him echo through his mind and mentally he stutters, hoping that the shadows and firelight conceal his blush.

No, that wasn’t right. He didn’t want to do _that._ He wanted to _impale_ her. He wanted to thrust his sword deep inside her -

He groans and buries his face in his hands. He was only making it worse.

He tries to think of _anything_ else besides his brother’s revolting escapades, but the more he tries to avoid it the more his imagination takes it as a challenge, conjuring up increasingly improbable and cringe-worthy scenarios. It’s a horror show – he can’t possibly enjoy it but he can’t look away either, despite himself.

Which is why he practically jumps out of his skin when he hears a certain someone whisper his name.

He looks around frantically, irrationally certain that she could read his thoughts and had caught him thinking… whatever it was. Carefully he stands and surveys the area. So wrapped up in his own… _musings_ , he had completely missed the approach of her familiar aura, which was emanating from deeper into the forest. Intent on giving her a piece of his mind – and nothing else - he stalks into the woods. When he is a safe distance away from camp she materializes from behind a tree, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

“Hello again, Inuyasha.”

He growls. “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming back here, Kagura. Unless you’re here to tell me where to find Naraku, you can just – “ His mind catches up to her greeting and he stills. “Wait, what did you just call me?”

Her smile trembles at the edges for an instant before splitting into a grin as she laughs in his face. All he can do is stare.

“You should have seen your _face_! I could barely see his stripes you were so red!”

For a moment he wants to defend himself, but he shakes his head and focuses on the matter at hand. “Forget that! How did you know it was me?”

Her giggles die down enough for her to respond. “Because I was there when Naraku hired Lady Aika.” At his blank expression she elaborates. “The dark priestess who cursed you.”

He blinks slowly, the pieces beginning to fall into place. “But if you knew it was me, then… you and my brother aren’t…”

She snorts. “Please. This is Sesshomaru we’re talking about.” She gives him a look dripping with false contrition. “Come on, you can’t blame me for taking advantage just a little, can you? That’s the closest to him I was ever going to get.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re truly evil, lady.” He scrunches his face in disgust. “And you have _terrible_ taste.”

She frowns, but there’s still merriment in her eyes. “Hey, you should be a little nicer to me. I have information you want.”

Inuyasha rolls his eyes. “Oh, so you really _are_ going to tell me where Naraku is?”

She winks. “Not quite. But I know where your friends are.”

His heart stills, but then he rallies. “Like I could ever trust anything that comes out of _your_ mouth.”

She shrugs. “Believe what you want. But I’ll tell you that I saw them just yesterday morning at the edge of Edo. If you want to find them, that’s where they’ll be.”

His first thought is tinged with embarrassment and he wants to kick himself for his stupidity: _Why didn’t_ I _think of that?_ Of _course_ Kagome would need to go home at some point. He easily could have headed that direction and simply waited for the inevitable.

His next thought is tainted with despair: _That far?_ With his companions in tow and battling demons along the way, it would be at least another few days before he could get there. And even then, he had no idea how – or if – they would be able to break the curse.

He realizes that Kagura is still there, watching him curiously. Banishing as much cynicism as he can from his voice, he asks, “Why are you helping me?”

She smirks. “I like to think of it more like helping _him_. I know he’s strong enough to defeat Naraku. And that helps _me_.” Her smile turns smug. “And I’m helping _you_ because you were such a good sport.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Well, I hope you enjoyed it, ‘cause it’ll never happen again.”

She sighs. “Don’t I know it.” With a pluck of a feather and a twist of her wrist, she appears at the treetops, hovering for just an instant to blow him a kiss before drifting away. From above he can hear her farewell. “Don’t let me down! Head east!”

He knows better than to trust her, but he also knows that even if she were lying he would have a better chance of crossing paths with his friends in familiar territory. It takes no time at all for him to make up his mind.

At first light they would leave for Edo.


	7. About Time

As a demon, Sesshomaru had seen many things, and experienced even more. Blessed with near immortality, he had witnessed the rise and fall of empires, the growth of humankind and their folly and progress, the countless change of the seasons. Birth, growth, death, repeat. Blessed with superior strength, he had crafted and honed his power until he was peerless in battle, eliminating threats and rivals with deadly efficiency. And there was _always_ a new threat, though over the course of the centuries they managed to blur together, because in the end it was almost always more of the same. Banter, slash, gouge, repeat. At this point in his life, few situations, if any, concerned, intimidated, or surprised him.

And yet he had somehow managed to surprise himself. As a half-demon, he had become gravely injured, grudgingly accepted the aid of humans, stomached more human food than any respectable demon ought to, defeated enemies with the sword that was rightfully his, imbibed an unreasonable amount of sake, and had exchanged intimacies with – and apparently simultaneously grossly offended – a human ally, all in the span of a mere three weeks.

He isn’t sure whether to be mortified or proud.

It’s the last of these things that has caused him the most trouble by far. After the fiasco at the inn, Kagome had insisted that they return to Edo. She needed to go home, she said. She needed some advice. Granted, she hadn’t said any of this directly to _him;_ he had overheard the conversation as she spoke with Sango and then he had trailed far behind her as she led the group east. The rest of their companions seemed uncomfortable with this arrangement, but as he was unaware of their normal routines he had no idea how to return to the status quo. He kept his distance and his silence as they traversed the countryside, encountering little resistance along the way. At least not from external threats. The few demons that they intercepted were quickly dispatched. Resistance coming from the irate priestess, however, practically radiated from her and did not diminish as the days passed. It was obvious she was upset, but she refused to even make eye contact with him let alone voice her concerns.

Which was fine with him. Talking was neither his specialty nor his preference, especially when the topic was _feelings_. Other people’s feelings were rarely of interest to him, and his own emotional state was none of anyone else’s concern. He is fairly certain that this is one of the few traits he shares with his brother, and so he does not anticipate any potential ramifications from keeping his own counsel.

Not that he had any feelings to discuss in the first place. Especially feelings for _her_. Kagome was a curiosity at best; his opportunity to observe and interact with her had been limited and... unpredictable. She might be Inuyasha’s love interest (though even _that_ was unclear) but she was certainly not _his._

Except that he _is_ Inuyasha now. The clear boundaries he had set when this mess began had blurred and dissolved, and every time he tried to make distinctions between _him_ and _me_ he only ended up giving himself a headache.

Well, some things about Inuyasha would just have to change. After all, he didn’t _have_ love interests. He didn’t have _feelings_. At least not those kind. Not anymore. And _especially_ not for human women.

Those kind of feelings only made everything complicated. The fallout from them was certainly not worth his time.

Ah, yes. Time.

He had been pondering time since they had arrived in Edo. Despite his disinterest in her personally, along their journey he had admitted to a certain level of curiosity about Kagome’s home. He had been to Edo, seen its village and its people, but he had never encountered anyone quite like her. There had to be some secret she was keeping, some mystery related to her heritage.

He was not prepared for the explanation.

The details were still hazy, but he heard someone mention “Kagome’s time” and he had witnessed for himself the blaze of light that came from the well when she had vanished into its depths. The rest of the group was unaffected by this display, and so he had choked back any questions and concealed any outward displays of fascination. Reluctantly he had followed them as they led him to the nearby village, where they planned to stay until Kagome returned.

A week had passed, and she was still missing.

More than once, late at night, he had crept out of the old woman’s hut to inspect the well, but there was nothing special about it. It was an ordinary dry well, with a thousand others just like it scattered across the country. There was nothing to suggest that it had the ability to do… whatever it did.

It was a puzzle. Just like she was. Kagome and her well and her “time.”

Recalling the strange woman with the strange clothes as she disappeared into thin air inside a not-so-strange well, he thought he might have finally seen it all. But the rest of his companions were intent on expanding his repertoire of experiences in her absence, and not in a good way.

His present circumstance served as a fine example. If anyone had told him a month ago that he would be communally bathing with a human male and a kitsune pup, he wouldn’t have even smiled at the joke. He simply would have reached down their throat and torn out their guts.

And yet here he is.

There is no conflict of emotions for this scenario. Mortification is the only appropriate choice.

Yet his companions seem at ease. The monk goes so far as to sigh deeply and lay his head back against the boulders rimming the spring, closing his eyes and slipping further into the water. He seems entirely at peace until Shippo splashes him.

“Hey Miroku, aren’t you slacking off? Shouldn’t you be going to spy on Sango by now?”

Miroku wipes his face with a smile. “Shippo, I’m surprised you would even suggest it. Sango is a woman I deeply admire and respect and I would never sully her honor in such a way.”

Shippo rolls his eyes. “If by never you mean just last week, then yeah, I totally believe you.”

“I was merely offering my assistance! That area was known to have bandits and I simply wanted to grant my protection.” He rubs his chin. “Though you may have a point. Since she’s bathing alone, it _does_ leave her vulnerable…”

“Hmpf. She wouldn’t _be_ alone if _someone_ would hurry up and apologize to Kagome.” Shippo’s eyes cut to Sesshomaru, giving him a long look.

Sesshomaru mirrors his expression, staring right back. It’s an unreasonable request for multiple reasons, not the least of which is that he rarely apologizes, and in this circumstance he isn’t even sure what he would be apologizing _for_. Either way, the request wasn’t just unreasonable, it was impossible. “She isn’t here.”

Shippo crosses his little arms over his chest. “So? That’s never stopped you before! Go back to Kagome’s time and get her!”

His blood stills. Surely he had misunderstood. “What?”

“You heard me! Go get Kagome! It’s not fair that we should all miss her just because you’re being a jerk!”

 _Impossible._ He blinks, mind whirling with the implications. Almost to himself he says, “You want me to… go get her?”

“Well duh! If it were any of the rest of us we would have gone to get her a long time ago! But you’re the only one that can go through the well.”

It couldn’t be true. Inuyasha knew the secret of Kagome’s time? Inuyasha could go through the well?

 _He_ could go through the well?

Sesshomaru swallows thickly, his throat gone dry. “I’ll think about it.”

Shippo huffs. “Yeah, well you’d better think faster. The longer you wait, the angrier she’ll be. She’s guaranteed to sit you at least once now already.”

Miroku chuckles. “Shippo’s right, my friend. Kagome has been more than accommodating of you, but it’s clear that you’ve upset her more than usual. Just what happened that night at that inn?”

He waves a dismissive hand, barely listening, thinking this conversation inconsequential in comparison to this earth-shattering revelation. “She kissed me.”

There is a beat of stunned silence, and then suddenly Sesshomaru is averting his eyes as the monk shoots to his feet, exposing himself. Water splashes as Miroku slogs toward him and yanks him up by the arm. “Inuyasha! You must go talk to Kagome! There’s no time to waste!”

“Let go of me!”

But the monk isn’t listening. He pulls him from the water and tosses him a towel, and then stoops to gather Sesshomaru’s clothing, standing by looking anxious as he waits for him to dry off. When he is finished, the monk, who hasn’t bothered to don his own clothing yet, holds out his hakama as though he expects Sesshomaru to step into it.

Keeping his glare carefully at eye level, he swipes the hakama from the monk’s hands. “Tend to your own needs. I can dress myself.”

As he shrugs on Inuyasha’s simple attire the monk and kitsune dress as well, and before he has even finished adjusting the fire-rat Miroku is tugging on his sleeve. “Quickly, Inuyasha!”

He allows himself to be led in the direction of the forest clearing, scowling at the back of the monk’s head. “Is this really such an emergency?”

“Of course it is! It’s no wonder Kagome has yet to return, and I daresay she might not return at all unless you remedy this situation at once!”

 _What_ situation? He was drunk. She kissed him. In a state of inebriated madness, he had kissed her back. If her companions were to be believed, she was infatuated with the hanyou. What, exactly, was the problem? If anyone had a right to be indignant about the situation it was _him_ – she should _be_ so lucky to be the recipient of his affections. In fact, _she_ should be apologizing to _him_ for insinuating herself upon him in the first place.

He had just about convinced himself of the merit of this questionable logic – unwittingly playing into the drama that at any other time he would have considered far beneath him – when the well comes into view. Miroku marches him over to it and gives him a gentle shove, causing him to bump up against the crumbling wood.

“Go on, Inuyasha. It will be fine. I’m sure Kagome will forgive you, but you mustn’t wait any longer.”

Forgive me for _what_? But the monk just answers his confused glare with an impatient gesture, urging him forward.

Cautiously he climbs onto the ledge, crouching as he examines its depths. This was escalating far too quickly for his tastes. His curiosity was piqued, but he had not been given sufficient time to consider the possibilities and consequences. He has many questions, none of which he can ask without blowing his cover: Where will this take me? _When_ will this take me? What will it feel like? He isn’t afraid, but he is reluctant nonetheless. Knowing that he possessed the power to use this well he would have taken advantage of it eventually, but on his own terms and in his own time.

From behind him, Shippo grumbles. “What’s the hold up?”

Miroku’s voice is contemplative. “Perhaps he just needs a little encouragement. What do you say, Shippo?”

Before he can turn and ask what they mean, he can feel two sets of hands on his back, shoving him forward. Instinct screams for him to enact his power of flight to control the freefall, but that power is lost to him. He braces himself for an impact that never comes.

There is a rush of power and he is swallowed into a void, rushing through darkness pinpointed with light. Weightless, he is pulled along, headfirst, eyes open and searching. He has no point of reference for this experience, no apt comparison, but it’s a little like what he imagines it would be to fly through the stars.

Just as he is getting accustomed to the journey it abruptly ends, and he stops somewhere where the darkness is near complete. On hands and knees, he can feel solid earth beneath him as the power dissipates. He blinks in the darkness, stretching his senses to determine his surroundings. He inhales deeply.

And succumbs to a fit of coughing.

Gods, what was that _smell?_

People, from what he could tell. Lots of them. Damp earth and the musty scent of old wood. Dust. And something else, something new and foul in the air itself, choking him.

When the coughing subsides, his eyes have adjusted to the dim light coming from above him. He looks up, discerning that he has been deposited in the bottom of yet another well, but it cannot possibly be the same one, as some structure is built around it, blocking out the sun. With one more indelicate sneeze he finds his feet, and starts climbing.

At the top the door of the structure is slightly ajar, and beyond it he can hear a myriad of sounds. Birdsong he recognizes, and wind in the trees. But other sounds he cannot place– the constant ebb and flow of some distant rumbling, punctuated by sharp bleats from some animal – or demon – he has never encountered. And closer by, shuffling.

He had smelled humans, and it is apparent that there is one nearby. With a deep breath – through his mouth this time – he readies his claws and pushes open the door.

The sunlight is harsh compared to the darkness of the well house, and he brings up a hand to shield his eyes as he searches for the potential threat and tries to determine his location. A large white building stands not far away, and various sheds or outbuildings are scattered about the property. The architecture is strange, as is the flat, stone ground beneath his feet.  To one side is what appears to be a small garden. The only truly familiar object is the torii gate at the edge of the yard.

A shrine, then.

Which seemed convenient. Kagome was a priestess; perhaps he could ascertain information about her whereabouts from the shrine keepers. But first things first.

The shuffling grows louder, and Sesshomaru narrows his eyes and tenses his muscles, only to relax when from his left a human child appears, burdened with boxes that stack past the height of his head. His clothing is peculiar, much like Kagome’s is peculiar.  The child continues, unaware of his presence, until he bumbles over a loose rock and crashes to the ground, boxes and all.

“Dang it!” The child sits up and rubs his knee. “I told Gramps this was too much for me to carry.” Sesshomaru attempts to use this opportunity to slip away, but his movement catches the boy’s eye and his head snaps up. Sesshomaru freezes.

“Inuyasha! It’s been awhile!” He waves an enthusiastic arm above his head, and Sesshomaru is oddly reminded of Rin. Apparently his brother knew this boy. A potential ally. He raises a tentative hand in response.

“Hey, would you mind giving me a hand? Gramps has more ‘treasures’ he wants to store in the shed. Kagome was supposed to help me, but she’s too busy moping.”

This boy knows Kagome as well? Even better. It may be easier to locate her than he had thought. Deciding that he can use the boy to extract useful information, he approaches and gathers the boxes in one arm, the material light and coarse against his skin. “Where do they go?”

“Thanks, Inuyasha! Over here, I’ll show you.”

Upon entering it is obvious that the storehouse is dusty and he covertly breathes through his mouth to avoid another fit of sneezing. The human in his company reaches above him and pulls a cord dangling from the ceiling. Instantly a pear-shaped glass bulb illuminates and bathes the room in light. He blinks in surprise. Did all humans in this land possess such magic, or was this boy being trained in the art? It was feasible, considering they were at a shrine. Still, this was no magic he had ever seen. He had underestimated the potential threat this boy represented. It would be wise to proceed with caution.

Heeding the boy’s instruction, he carefully arranges the boxes on the shelves. The labels on them are strange; some characters are familiar while others are not. Is the language different here as well? He files this information away and faces the boy, feeling that he has earned his question.

“Where is Kagome?”

The boy shrugs and jerks his thumb through the open door at the white building behind him. “She was in the house the last time I saw her, but that was an hour ago. I try not to get involved. You can try to talk to her if you want, but I can’t promise that she’s in a very good mood.”

“Not in a good mood?”

“Nah, ever since she got back she’s been acting funny. You don’t know anything about that, do you?”

He does, and he doesn’t. Better to go with the simplest answer. “No.”   

“Okay. Well, I’ve got other chores to take care of. I’ll see you later, alright?”

And with that the boy is scampering off, disappearing from the storehouse. When Sesshomaru exists he is gone. He eyes her home and squares his shoulders. He had a mission to complete, and the sooner he finished it the better.

If he was unprepared for the explanation of Kagome’s time, he is completely unprepared for the reality of it. When he steps inside the house, he is confronted with a modest room crammed with all manner of unusual objects. Cushioned furniture lines the walls, and various trinkets composed of materials he has never seen are littered about on small wooden tables. Under his feet the floor is covered with a soft material that extends throughout the room. Along one wall a gray box with a slightly curved, shining front reflects his distorted image.

Curiosity overwhelms him. This place – dimension? time? – was full of wonders. One could spend hours in this room alone, investigating all of the oddities. He knows that he has a task to complete but the curiosity is just too much. Kagome could wait just a little longer.

On impulse he chooses an object at random, reaching out and picking up a long, black, rectangular object. He runs a thumb along its surface, marveling at the unusual texture of the raised squares. Examining the labels, some squares had numbers and others had more of that indecipherable language. There is one word he recognizes, however.

_Power._

What was this? He had stumbled on something truly magnificent. What manner of power could this tiny box grant? Was it something he could wield? Was this the source of the boy’s magic, and if so, could it be used to his advantage? Possibilities whirl in his mind and his fingertip hovers over the red square.

He is jarred from his thoughts when a door in an adjoining room opens, and voices filter in, one of which he recognizes. There is rustling and the sound of objects being placed on wood. He stills and flattens himself along one wall, listening closely as he determines his next move.

“…And then we were lying there, gazing at the stars, and… and he kissed me!”

A lie. Or a half-truth. Either way, he feels his hackles rise at the implication that he had started it.

Another female voice, this one slightly older and evidently startled. “He did?” A soft chuckle. “Don’t tell your grandfather.”

“Mom, be serious! I tell you that Inuyasha kissed me and that’s all you have to say?”

More rustling. “Well, how do you feel about it? Did you want him to kiss you?”

“I- well, I mean I didn’t _not_ want him to kiss me! You know how I feel about him.”

“So isn’t that a good thing, then?”

Kagome’s voice drops. “It would be if I thought he meant it.”

Had he meant it? He shakes his head in horror for even considering it. What a stupid question. _Of course_ he hadn’t meant it. In fact, he had spent an entire week traveling to Edo creating a long list of reasons to avoid both sake and Inuyasha’s priestess (and especially the combination of the two) as much as possible for the indefinite future.

In the other room an object knocks against the wood roughly. “Which is exactly why he’s so insufferable! Why would he do that if he didn’t mean it? And then he ignored me for a whole week! It’s already hard enough sometimes without having him complicate things even more!”

The energy in the room shifts as the priestess exchanges her despondency for anger, and he can feel it souring the air in the room. He had seen her powers in action before, and in his current form he was likely no match for them. If she found him here while in this emotional state, she would probably use the beads on him as Shippo had predicted – or worse. As it is he has two options – flee and save himself, or counteract her power with some of his own.

He glances down at the box still clutched in his hand.

With a smirk he depresses the little red button, more than ready to receive its power.

Sound blasts into the room and he startles, dropping the box and covering his ears. He glances around wildly, trying to determine the source of the noise, and when he turns he can see that the gray box has come to life, tiny humans running along its face and shouting at one another. Explosions bloom behind the humans and he braces himself for the heat, but nothing comes. What manner of magic had he summoned?

From the other room the unfamiliar voice calls out. “Souta, could you turn that down, please?”

Frantically he retrieves the box and punches at the little flexible boxes. The sound only increases. He tries another, and the image instantly changes, this time featuring impossible moving drawings.

“Souta – oh, Inuyasha! It’s you!” A woman enters the room and causally approaches him, taking the box from him and returning the room to blissful silence with ease. “I’m sure Souta would be happy to teach you how to use the remote sometime if you like.”

_Remote?_

“Did you come to see Kagome? She’s just in the kitchen – “

“ _Mom_. Not now.” The whispered words sound as if they are grinding though Kagome’s teeth.

“Right…” The woman smiles. “Say, would you mind going to the store for me? As we were putting things away it seems that I’ve forgotten to buy salt. I’ll find Souta and have him go with you.”

_Souta?_

He has half a mind to storm the kitchen and grab Kagome, just to forcibly drag her back down the well to where things made sense. But the woman is already poking her head out the door. “Souta! Could you run an errand for me please?”

A moment later the boy from earlier appears. “Sure thing, mom. What’s up?”

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a few slips of paper. “I forgot to buy salt at the store. Will you and Inuyasha run and get some for me so I can make dinner tonight?”

The boy takes the paper, and before he pockets them Sesshomaru is pleased to see that they do not appear to be sutras. Obviously all of the shrine keepers here are powerful in their own way; he needed to return to his original plan of proceeding with caution.

The boy smiles up at him. “Come on, Inuyasha! Let’s go!”

Bewildered and more than a little miffed at being bossed around by these humans, he starts to follow the boy to the door. Before he makes it outside, however, something is being roughly shoved over his head, flattening his ears.

He turns and the woman is smiling pleasantly. “Can’t forget your hat!”

He reaches up and fingers the scratchy fabric, eyes crossing slightly as he examines the wide brim that extends in front of his face. Not knowing what to make of it but not wanting to incur her wrath, he nods. “Of course.”

The boy leads them toward the edge of the shrine grounds, and as they approach the torii gate it becomes obvious that the shrine is located on top of a hill. When they reach the stairs he stops dead in his tracks.

Laid out in front of him is a veritable forest of steel buildings, taller than he has ever seen, covered with glass that winks in the afternoon sunlight. The sight of it chills his blood and steals the air from his lungs.

What was the purpose of these? Just how many humans were _here_?

The boy’s voice jars him from his thoughts. “Come on, Inuyasha! What are you waiting for?”

The answer to his question becomes obvious as they descend the long stairs leading to the shrine and join the crowds of people below, shuffling in all directions. In between the lines of people, enclosed steel carriages rumble by with even more humans inside of them, protected behind glass. The carriages have wheels but no animals to pull them, and their speeds are remarkable.

More magic? How had humans harnessed this much power?

But he can sense no auras, no holy powers. Even in this body he should be able to pick up something, considering the sheer amount of unexplained activity in the area. But there is nothing. A particularly loud carriage sputters by, emitting great clouds of smoke in its wake. He coughs. If not magic, could it be that they were propelled by fire of some sort? Or heat?

He remembers Ginkotsu, the metal monster that plagued his brother’s group. He remembers the humans and their guns. He remembers the odd wheeled contraption that Kagome rides.

It hits him.

Not magic. _Machines_.

The humans had built machines. Complex, impossible machines. Thousands of them, tens of thousands even. When did this happen? How long had it taken to achieve this?

Perhaps these humans were not magical, but they were still clearly powerful in their own right. This technology was… astounding.

And to think that earlier that day he thought he had seen it all.

He follows the boy through the crowds, staring at the strange clothing of passersby, some dragging children along by the hands, some talking into little boxes held to their ears, some laughing with groups and some alone.  He gets more than a few odd looks, and he suspects that it is because his clothing and coloring are wildly out of place. In this world, _he_ is the strange one. The sheer amount of them is staggering, but the people are not the only things that draw his attention. Flashing lights are everywhere he looks, some attached to buildings and some on poles that overhang the road.  The stench of the people and the machines is overpowering, but his curiosity – and a touch of trepidation – keeps him moving forward. He is determined to learn all he can about this human world.

His mind snags on the phrase. This _human_ world. He had been so caught up in the advancements of this time that he had not even considered the implications.

_Where were the demons?_

Were they in hiding? Were they overcome by the sights and smells of this place and living elsewhere? Surely they couldn’t be _gone_.

Could they?

“You look tense, Inuyasha, and you’re sure quiet today. Something on your mind?”

Souta is looking at him curiously, and he wills himself to relax. And lie. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

The little boy nudges him with an elbow. “If it’s about my sister, I understand. I love her and all, but she can be real moody sometimes. No need to worry though, whatever it is I’m sure she’ll get over it. She always does.”

Sesshomaru is just about at his limit receiving advice from humans, especially about one human in particular. And this time from a child, no less. It would be like taking advice from Rin. Preposterous. Inwardly he sighs.

“I am not worried.” Another lie. Or a half-truth. He _was_ worried, but not about Kagome.

By the time they reach their destination, Sesshomaru’s nerves are woefully frayed and he barely keeps himself from jumping back and reaching for his sword when the glass doors slide open on their own. Magic or machine, this world had far too many unpredictable elements, and he is tired of feeling off balance. He finds himself yearning to return to his own place in history, just to be on familiar ground so that he can process all that he has witnessed. Even the shrine would be better than this place; at least there the number of trees was greater than the number of humans.

The store is not as crowded as the roads, but it is assaulting to his senses nevertheless. More bright lights buzz above him, this time in long strips that run along the ceiling. Rows upon rows of brightly colored boxes line the shelves, and he can smell a discordant combination of human foods cooking somewhere. Music played with unfamiliar instruments drifts in the background, but he can’t locate the musicians. People nudge past him as they navigate the rows, pushing wheeled metal contraptions filled with items pulled from the shelves. Somewhere in the store a baby begins to cry. Sesshomaru pulls his hat further over his ears, but it doesn’t help.

Souta stops and pulls an item off the shelf, examining it. With a thoughtful look he reaches into his pocket and retrieves the paper the woman had given him. His face brightens. “Hey, mom gave us way more money than she needed to. Know what that means?”

Money? Humans traded paper as currency? How foolish. “What does that mean?”

Souta grins. “Treats, of course! Come on!”

The boy pulls him along by his sleeve and drags him to another aisle, one populated by more whining children than the rest. Souta glances again at the money in his hand. “Okay, there should be enough for us each to get one thing. What do you want?”

The characters on the packages are only semi-comprehensible, but the few words he can make out make his stomach churn. Humans had bizarre taste, and he wanted no part of it. Still, an opportunity was presenting itself, one that he could not pass up.

Remembering his mission in coming here, he asks, “What does Kagome prefer?”

Souta gives him a wicked grin. “Going for bribery, are you? Sly dog.”

Sesshomaru can’t help but be the slightest bit impressed by the boy’s shrewdness, and the slightest bit miffed that he was so transparent. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“Nope! Momma always says that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but I think it works for girls too. They just won’t admit it.”

Though their stomachs? Sesshomaru had certainly gutted more than his fair share of men, but it was not with the intention of getting to their hearts. As he puzzles it out, Souta makes his selection.

“Here we go. These are her favorite chocolates, and these are mine. You ready to go?”

 _More than ready._ “Lead the way.”

They return to the front of the store, and Sesshomaru watches the mysterious process that unfolds as Souta pays for their wares. Machines beep, bright screens display shifting numbers, and paper is exchanged for coin. Once their purchases are gathered in a crinkling sheer bag they are on their way.

When the torii gates come into view, Sesshomaru’s relief is palpable. Despite bathing mere hours ago, he finds himself yearning for the hot spring. Everything about him feels unclean. The illusion of nature on the shrine grounds is more than welcome.

Souta leads him into the kitchen, where their mother is utilizing even more unusual contraptions to prepare food. She turns to greet them when Souta sets the bag on the table.

“Were you able to find the salt, dear?”

“Sure did! And we got some candy too. Hope that’s okay.”

“Of course, that’s why I gave you extra money. Did you share with Inuyasha?”

“I tried, but he picked out something for Kagome instead.”

The woman gives him a knowing look. “Did he now? Well, if you want to go give it to her, she’s in her room studying.” With a wink she turns back to her cooking.

Souta hands him the treat and looks at him expectantly. Obviously his brother knew where to go, but Sesshomaru is unfamiliar with the layout of the house. Taking a deep breath, with difficulty he teases out her scent from the others that permeate the residence. Her presence was everywhere in the home, but he thinks he can detect where it is strongest. With a nod at the little boy, he turns from the kitchen and follows his nose, through the hall and up a staircase.

The hallway upstairs has multiple doors, but only one has light emanating from behind it. He is certain she is inside, but he is uncertain how to approach her. It should be as simple as telling her that her friends wish for her to return and leaving it at that, but he knows that it won’t be so simple. And if this was his future, she _needed_ to return so that she could aid in defeating Naraku.

Maintaining alliances was cumbersome indeed.

Straightening his spine, he gently pushes open her door and it whispers open on quiet hinges. She is there, as anticipated, hunched over a desk, chin propped up on one hand as she concentrates on the open book in front of her. As he begins to step across the threshold of her room she looks up, face changing rapidly from surprise to a scowl. She quickly returns her attention to her book.

“I’m busy right now, Inuyasha. Go watch TV with Souta or something.”

He’s tempted, even though he doesn’t have the first idea what TV is. Anything would be preferable to confronting this infuriating girl. But it had to be done. Ignoring her demand, he steps father into her room, stopping only when he is peering over her shoulder.

“Hey, get out of my light!”

His eyes scan the text, but many of the words are meaningless. “What are you studying?”

She huffs. “History, if you must know. It’s not like you can read it anyway, so back up.”

He hopes that she means that the writing is unfamiliar, and not that Inuyasha is illiterate. _That_ was a piece of the farce that he refused to play along with, even if it were supposed to be true. Nevertheless, he steps away and glances around for a place to sit. Her bed is the only option other than the floor, so the decision seems obvious. He’s not prepared for it to sink under his weight, and he’s glad she’s not watching him as he awkwardly adjusts his balance.

Uncomfortable silence permeates the space between them. His eyes shift to the table near her bed, where a box displays glowing blue numbers. _5:43._ What significance could this have? As he watches, one of the numbers blinks and changes. Intrigued, he reaches out to examine it further, but Kagome’s voice interrupts him.

“Hands off, Inuyasha. Or are you trying to break yet another one of my clocks?”

He withdraws his hand and chances a glance at her, but she only gives him a long look before turning back to her work. He sighs. Now was not the time for investigation; he could come back and do that at his leisure. His first priority was to remedy this situation. He searches for something to breach the gap, and chooses something innocuous.

“History of what?”

“What?” She doesn’t turn around, but he takes her response as a good sign.

“You said that you are studying history. History of what?”

“Japan,” she grinds out. “I have to know all the major military events between the feudal era and the present for my exam tomorrow. I finally made it to the late 1900’s, which means I’m almost done, so if you could just – “

He recoils. “1900’s?”

“Yes. So I have less than 30 years to go. If you insist on sticking around, please do it quietly!”

He does the math. _Five hundred years?_ Impossible. Sesshomaru knows the weight of the centuries, has carried the memory of them. He knows the pace of progress. The changes he had seen… they were exponential. Five hundred years was not enough time for these advances. How had this been accomplished? Was it like this everywhere?

He studies Kagome, this girl from the future who has seen the past. A small, begrudging admiration for her blooms in his mind as he considers all that she must know and all that she had seen. Her time held many mysteries, and she held the answers to them. Like him, she was a keeper of memory, only of a different, newer set. More to himself than to her, he says, “ _You_ are history.”

She hunches closer to her text. “No, but I _will_ be history if I don’t study, so please – “

“I meant you have seen that history. With your own eyes. You are part of it.”

She waves her writing utensil in the air dismissively. “Only small parts of it. And they don’t exactly mention me.”

Belatedly it occurs to him that she might hold an even greater secret than travelling through time. She might know the end to their story. _All_ of their stories. The fact that he had spent part of the afternoon wading through a sea of human beings means that they must have defeated Naraku, or at least banished him for such a city to thrive. It strikes him that the information she possesses is not just awe-inspiring, it is _useful_.  Essential, even. He tries to draw on his most casual voice when he responds. “No? Nothing about the jewel and Naraku?” He pauses and takes a risk. “My brother?”

She turns around long enough to glare at him and then rolls her eyes. “This is _human_ history, Inuyasha. Demons are fairytales in this world. You know that.” She turns back around and mutters under her breath. “People today would never believe the truth.”

The bottom drops out of his world as his earlier suspicions – the ones he had not wanted to believe - are confirmed. Demons are _fairytales_? Relegated to myth? How long ago had they vanished from visibility and human knowledge?

How long ago had _he_ vanished?

The thought spirals, and the knowledge settles deep in his gut, sour and cold. It was true, then. Inuyasha was dead. The curse would never be broken. Because in his own body, he would have endured. He is sure of it. He would never have perished on his own, taken down by lowly demons or evil hanyous or humans or the passage of time. And if he had endured, he would not have allowed the rise of this city in place of his own empire, nor would he have allowed for the demise of demonkind.

But he is not himself. Not anymore.

The certainty of it weighs on him, suffocates him until this room – this whole world – feels much too small. He needed to get away from here, somewhere he could be alone and think this through. Abruptly he finds his feet, and the bed squeaks as his weight is lifted. Kagome gives him a look over her shoulder.

“Finally decided to let me study in peace?”

He blinks at her. This girl, with her knowledge of the future, could be the key. But she would only share it with him if she didn’t hate him. Swallowing his pride, he nods and approaches her desk. He lays the candy from the store next to her book. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. You should come back through the well. Your friends miss you.”

The irritation in her eyes fades, and she looks down at her lap. “I know. And I’ll be back soon. But I have a life here, too, and I have some things to do first. See you tomorrow, maybe?”

He nods and flees, sneaking down the staircase and out the door. As soon as he is safely outside of the house he scans the area, hoping to make an uninterrupted dash for the well house.

And then he sees it.

He hadn’t paid it any mind before, but his eyes stop on the tallest tree in the courtyard, the one cordoned off by a tiny fence and ringed with a string of white paper decorations. The one with a telltale scar midway up its trunk.

Dusk had fallen over the city, but his eyes are unaffected by the dim light as they lock onto the tree. He steps away from the house, gravitating toward this unexpected discovery. When he reaches it he carefully steps over the fence and reaches up to run a hand along the damaged bark.

There could be no mistake. This was the same tree to which Inuyasha had been sealed for fifty years.

Five hundred years later, in a world where everything he knew had changed, this remained.

Hope sparks within him. If this tree could survive the ages, then why couldn’t he? Perhaps this future didn’t have to be set. He could use this future to his advantage, return and learn its secrets. With this knowledge, perhaps he wouldn’t be forced to adapt. At worst he could prepare for this future; at best he could manipulate it and force it to adapt instead. Five hundred years was nothing. With cunning and patience, he could take back his place in history.

Until he remembers the mortality of this body, and its vulnerability. As Sesshomaru, the plan might just work. But as Inuyasha, he might not live to see this future as it plays out, regardless of the amount of plotting and skill. _That_ was his real future.

Suddenly the in-betweens don’t matter much at all.

Even the trip back through the well is not enough to pique his curiosity or lift his spirits. The power hums around him, but he barely notices as he is deposited back to the place where this all began. Night had fallen, casting the well shaft into darkness. With solemnity he climbs out of the well and breathes deeply of the fresh air, relishing the clean scent and the silence of the woods.

For a moment he feels incrementally better. But when he raises his eyes to the night sky, the sliver of the moon mocks him from above.


	8. Catch You Later

_“Loooooord Sesshomaru, he has long white hair,_

_Loooooord Sesshomaru, we follow him everywhere!”_

After weeks with his brother’s companions and days on the road as they make their way toward Edo, Inuyasha thinks that he really should have gotten used to the singing by now. It was constant in its inconsistency, starting and stopping without rhyme or reason, peppering their days with little bursts of nonsensical verse. Most of the time he found it kind of charming, or at least pleasant. But today, the song had begun sometime around midday and had continued on, showing no signs of stopping. No visible object was safe: trees, rocks, birds, flowers – all of them had been enthusiastically crooned about, sometimes more than once. But none had been more lovingly committed to verse so much as Rin’s favorite subjects: her travel partners.  

_“Maaaaaaster Jaken, he is short and green,_

_Maaaaaaster Jaken, he is really mean!”_

Jaken sputters in protest. “Now wait just a minute!” The little girl covers her giggles behind her sleeve from her position atop Ah-Un’s saddle, and Jaken scowls. “Two can play this game! See how _you_ like it!” He takes a deep breath and mimics the melody.

_“Liiiiittle human, incessantly she sings,_

_Liiiiiittle human, her neck I want to wring!”_

Having the sense to see how this might degenerate quickly, Inuyasha intervenes. “Enough, Jaken.”

“But my lord, she – “

“She’s bored.” He shuts his eyes, knowing he will regret his next words. “Let her sing.”

Rin smiles. “Thank you, my lord!” When she thinks he isn’t looking, she sticks her tongue out playfully at the toad imp.

Inwardly he smiles, oddly reminded of Shippo. Teasing was much funnier when it wasn’t directed at _him._ He clears his throat lightly. “But no more songs about Jaken. He’s clearly too sensitive.”

_“What?”_

“Okay!” Unfazed by Jaken’s squawking, she launches into another verse.

_“Ah-Unnnnnn the dragon, he is very sweet,_

_Ah-Unnnnnn the dragon, he keeps me off my feet!”_

For the hundredth time, Inuyasha attempts to tune out the singing and refocus on his own thoughts, trying to come up with a plan of action. With a glance at the countryside and the position of the sun in the sky, he estimates that they should be able to reach their destination by nightfall. If he remembers correctly, this village isn’t far from Edo. Or at least he thinks so; the constellation of rice paddies looks familiar, but he could be wrong – after days on the road they’re all starting to look the same.

He allows himself a small sigh. The closer they get, the longer the days seem to drag. He wishes there was some way to speed up the journey; he’s ready to be done with this once and for all. If only they could fly, they would have been there days ago.

He’d considered riding Ah-Un but quickly scrapped that idea. Besides the fact that he had no idea how to actually control the dragon in flight, there just wasn’t enough room in the saddle for all three of them. It felt much too precarious to try to hang on to both the reins and Rin at the same time, and he’d be damned if he was going to let Jaken ride in his lap.

Granted, his brother didn’t need flying dragons to take to the skies; he’d dodged Inuyasha’s attacks on numerous occasions just by whizzing about all on his own. He’d made it look so effortless, so _easy_.

Turns out, it wasn’t.

More than once, late at night when the others were sleeping, he had crept away from camp, seeing if he might be able to figure it out. Anyone watching would have been puzzled to see a pale demon repeatedly leaping from progressively higher tree limbs and rock ledges, only to come crashing gracelessly to the ground. Needless to say, _that_ had been a spectacular failure. Apparently Sesshomaru had some powers that took a little more practice to master than others.

But the simple ones – energy whip, poison claws – he had those down pat. Since they couldn’t fly, they were forced to take the long way, extending their travel time and the body count. Thankfully, at this point petty demons were no challenge at all and only served to slow him down. Movement father down the road catches his attention, and he rolls his eyes.

And there’s the next one now. Right on cue.

He doesn’t bother to tell the others to hide or defend themselves; he simply sprints forward, ready to meet the demon before it can even get close. As he does his own song pops up in his head, one that had come in handy to keep a tally of his daily exertions, one Kagome had taught to Shippo which he had modified for his own purposes:

_Sixty-three demons to kill on the road,_

_Sixty-three demons to kill,_

_Take one down,_

_Blood on the ground,_

_Sixty-two demons to kill on the road._

He’d have to adjust his count, however, because as he gets closer he can see that there isn’t just one demon, but three. They’re a little bigger and a little uglier than what he’s been dealing with recently, but that doesn’t scare him. He cracks his knuckles and joins the fray.

He’s finally adjusted to this body, the long limbs and coiled strength, the solid center of gravity and the superior senses. He still wishes that he had a sword to use, but he relishes in the fight nonetheless as he dances and twists around his opponents. It takes a little longer than he would have liked to take them out; they seemed to be playing with him, evading more than attacking, taunting him while staying just out of range. In the end he’s faster, and just as he is about to slice the final one in half a scream rents the air.

_Rin._

He spins on his heel and sees yet another demon, thick and burly, running toward the rice paddies with the little girl tossed over its shoulder. Naraku was clearly upping his game and he refused to let him get away with it. His feet automatically step in her direction, but something catches his hair and yanks him back, spinning him around. Claws slash at his arm, tearing his sleeve, and then leathery fingers wrap around his throat.

The demon in front of him looks triumphant, but Inuyasha just readies his claws and growls.

“I don’t have time for you right now!”

Calling forth the poison, he takes a page out of his brother’s playbook and thrusts his hand through the demon’s gut, trying not to grimace as his fingers come out the other side. The demon howls in pain and releases him, crumpling to the ground.

With only a brief glance of disgust he wipes his hand off on his pants and dashes after Rin.

Farmers are scattering in all directions, determined to avoid the kidnapper as it barrels through the rice paddies, approaching the village. Inuyasha curses under his breath as it lopes up a short hill and ducks behind one of the outlying huts, disappearing from sight. He pushes himself, increasing his pace.

When he enters the village he doesn’t need his sense of smell to guide him; screaming villagers announce the presence of the demon just a few streets away. Following the sound, he weaves past huts and peddlers selling their wares, quickly making his way toward the center of the town. The people shriek and cower at his presence as well, but he barely even notices. There is one voice that stands out above all the rest, and she is calling his name.

Within minutes he has caught up to them, and he is determined not to let them out of his sight again. The demon displays surprising agility as it pivots around corners and snakes past wailing women and children, the little girl bouncing against his shoulder. From her position she looks up, and as soon as Rin sees him her tiny hands stretch out to reach him.

_“Lord Sesshomaru!”_

The desperation in her voice pulls at his heart, but Inuyasha is at a loss. The market is too crowded, the streets too narrow. His usual tricks won’t work, not without risking the human in his care or the humans in this village. But the longer he continues the pursuit, the more erratic the demon’s moves become. It’s clearly tiring of the chase, and if Inuyasha doesn’t do something soon, he fears that it might resort to drastic measures.

“Please my lord! Help me!”

Her kidnapper growls and thumps the back of her head, and Inuyasha can feel the demonic power within him surge. He makes up his mind.

“Everyone inside!” He shouts. “Get out of the streets!”

The people huddled in the alleyways and beside the stalls make no move to flee, frozen in terror. Children cling to their parents and hide their faces, while the adults watch with wide-eyed fear. He understands, but he has no time for their indecision.

He unfurls his whip and cracks it harmlessly against the ground near his feet. _“Now!”_

As though a spell had been broken, people begin to scatter, crashing over carts and upending crates of produce. A part of him hopes that the debris might trip up his opponent, but no such luck. As Inuyasha leaps over a fallen rack of cooking pots he frantically scans the area, praying that everyone heeded his warning. He readies his whip again and calls out to the little girl, breath coming hard and fast as he keeps pace with the demon.

“Rin, close your eyes!”

She obeys, squeezing her eyes shut. Sure that she won’t see, he takes aim and swings.

The kill is clean. The whip slices right through the demon’s middle, severing it at the waist. The demon’s legs stumble forward for a sickening moment before crashing to the ground, and the top half topples a second later. Rin yelps as she collides with the ground, rolling over a few times before coming to a stop a few feet away from the remains. She doesn’t stay down, however; within seconds she is on her feet and rushing toward him.

He kneels down, snatching her up with his arm when she gets close. She buries her face into the fur at his shoulder, and he can feel her tremble. He’s trembling a little himself, to be honest. He’s not sure what he would have done if he had failed. Rin was just a little girl. She didn’t deserve to get caught up in all of this.

He gives her a gentle shake, trying to get a good look at her.  “Are you hurt?”

She looks up and shakes her head. Tears stain her cheeks, but there are no visible signs of injury. She hiccups. “No, my lord.”

Relief floods him. She was okay. It was over. “What do you say we go find Jaken and Ah-Un? I’m sure they’re missing your songs by now.”

She gives him a watery smile. “Yes, please.”

The galloping heart in his chest is finally starting to slow to a trot as he hitches her a little higher on his hip, turning in the direction of the fields. That was much too close. Maybe he was getting overconfident. He’d have to be extra careful from here on out, watching closely until they could get to Edo.

Gods, he can’t wait to get there and finish this once and for all. Granted, he’s still not sure what will actually happen when he gets to Edo or how to fix this problem, but it has to be a step in the right direction at least. He turns his thoughts to how he’ll covertly get his brother’s attention as he carries the little girl through the ruined marketplace.

They only make it a few paces when he hears a strangled voice behind him.

“Father?”

He turns. The villagers have started to emerge from their hiding places, and they are crowded around a single spot farther up the road, just past the demon’s corpse. He can’t see what they are looking at, but a cold feeling settles in his gut and tingles across his skin. One by one, villagers turn to look at him, faces twisted in anger and disgust.

 _“Fiend,”_ they whisper.

_“Abomination.”_

He swallows thickly. What was everyone getting so worked up about? It’s not like he had done anything wrong. Sure, he had wrecked the place a little, but that was only to eliminate the hulking demon that had been terrorizing them.

A low keening rises up from beyond the crowds, and the tingle turns to sharp needles that prick his flesh and poke holes in his lungs, stealing his breath away.

No. It _couldn’t_ be.

Before he knows it his feet are propelling him forward, shouldering through the crowd as best he can with his single arm occupied with Rin. They push at him, tug his hair. Spittle sprays against his cheek and he winces.

“Back up! Let me through!”

Before he even takes in the scene he can feel his head start shaking in denial. There hadn’t been anyone there. He had _checked._

But when he finally makes his way through the throng of people his worst fears are realized. A small child kneels over the still form of a young man, a deep gash crisscrossing his body from hip to shoulder. There could be no mistake; he’s seen that injury countless times over the past few weeks. When the boy looks up at him his face is smeared with tears and blood.

“You killed him! You killed my papa!”

He hadn’t meant it. It was an accident. He was just trying to rescue Rin. He _told_ them to move, he _said_ to get out of the street, he said he said _hesaidhesaidhesaid_ -

He shuts his eyes, but the image just dances across the surface of his eyelids. It doesn’t matter. All the excuses in the world don’t change the fact that the man is dead. It doesn’t change the fact that he had orphaned the boy at his feet.

It doesn’t change the fact that he had killed him. It was all his fault.

Inuyasha feels sick. He wants to run, to cry, to do _something_ , but his joints are rusted shut and he is nailed to the spot. Then someone jostles him roughly from behind.

_“Murderer!”_

The mob takes up the cry and descends upon him again in earnest, and he has no way to fight them off as they shove him and pull at his clothing. He’s not sure he would even want to; he has more than earned their anger. But he can’t let Rin be punished for his mistake.

“Stop! Please!”

The sword at his hip pulses with energy, and his eyes snap open.

_Tenseiga?_

He raises his voice above the din. “I can help! Stop, I can help!”

They don’t listen. They continue to close in on him, and before he can stop them the girl is being wrenched away and passed through the crowds.

 _“No!”_ Arm freed, he pushes them back, far enough to display his claws menacingly. “Give her back!”

_“Lord Sesshomaru!”_

_“Filthy demon!”_

_“Scum! You’ll only kill her too!”_

His blood boils. He swipes at them, careful not to actually make contact. He doesn’t want to hurt them – gods, he doesn’t want to hurt _anybody_ – but if it was a demon they wanted, it was a demon they would get. “Return her or you’re all next!”

They still, faces wary. They make no further move to harm him, but they make no move to give Rin back either. Now that he has their attention he tries again. “Return her and I’ll save him.”

They are silent for a beat, uncertain hope in their eyes, until a single villager cries out, initiating another ripple of discontent and denial.

_“No demon can save him!”_

_“Demons can only take life!”_

As if in response the sword at his hip pulses again insistently. Inuyasha is at the edge of his patience. He has no idea if he can actually use Tenseiga, but he knows there’s no time to waste. “Let me try! Don’t you at least want me to try to save him?”

The villagers look unconvinced, but the little boy’s voice rings out above their muttering. “Save my father! Bring him back!”

At that the villagers pause. They cast their eyes around, still unsure, but no one has the courage to speak out against the child’s plea. Reluctantly they part the way, eyeing him with mistrust and open hatred as they allow him to approach the body. He glances around.

“Where’s Rin?”

From somewhere in the crowd he hears her muffled voice. “I’m here, my lord!” She pushes her way between the legs of the villagers, and no one tries to stop her. She appears at his side a moment later.

“Stay close, and stay back.” She nods. He addresses the crowd. “All of you. Stay back.”

A collective gasp goes up as he unsheathes Tenseiga, and the little boy huddles protectively against the body on the ground, eyes shut tight. As Inuyasha stares down on him in pity and regret, a new vision appears.

So _this_ is what his brother could see. Pall-bearers of the underworld, scampering about the body, preparing to collect the man’s soul.

Not if he can help it. Drawing on his most compassionate voice, he addresses the little boy. “Stand back, kid. Your father is going to be fine.”

With one final look at the body the boy sniffs and nods, scooting back on his knees. Taking a deep breath and sending a prayer to any god that will listen, Inuyasha swings the sword.

The demons dissolve with a scream that only he can hear. A long moment passes and everyone – including himself - holds their breath. Then the man on the ground groans.

“Papa!”

The villagers look on with stunned silence as the little boy helps the man to sit up. Inuyasha wants nothing more than to collapse in relief, but now is not the time or place. Instead, he takes advantage of their distraction. He scoops up Rin and leaps into the air, landing neatly on one of the rooftops. He jumps across them like stepping stones, heading in the direction of the fields. As they depart he thinks he can hear the little boy shouting his thanks, but he stays the course.

By the time they rejoin the toad and the dragon Inuyasha has composed himself outwardly, but inside he is violently shaken. Without a word he deposits Rin in Ah-Uh’s saddle and takes his place at the front of the caravan, lost in thought.

How could he have made such a mistake? He had been sure there was no one else there. He had taken precautions. He had _looked_.

He replays the memory of that moment, the rush of adrenaline and sour desperation, but in his mind’s eye he only sees Rin, reaching out and helpless. His goal had been single-minded, razor-sharp in its focus – save the girl. He should have been more careful, he should have – he never would have –

He takes a ragged breath, feeling his pulse start to race. It was fine. The man was fine. That’s what mattered, right? In the end he sat up, living and breathing and hugging his son like it had never happened.

But it _did_ happen.

Did killing someone still count if you could take it back?

 _Yes_ , he decides automatically. It mattered very much.

He feels almost hypocritical; it’s not like this was the first life he had ended. He’d been exterminating demons left and right for ages – plenty since he’s been on his own, even more since beginning his quest to defeat Naraku, and countless numbers in the past few weeks. It wouldn’t even be the first human he had killed – though admittedly at the time he had been under the influence of his demon blood. However, in all of those instances he had been attacking _enemies_. This was an innocent man, someone who had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, someone who had bumbled into the unfortunate and complicated circumstances of Inuyasha’s life.

He glances down at Tetsusaiga’s counterpart, and for once he is _glad_ he is in his brother’s body. He’s not sure what he would have done if the sword hadn’t answered his call. He’s not sure he could have lived with himself if it hadn’t. Running a hand over the hilt, he wonders if his bastard brother had any idea just how much of a blessing this sword truly was.

In an uncanny twist, Inuyasha startles as he realizes that for the first time in his life he is the tiniest bit jealous of his brother’s inheritance, rather than the other way around. Tetsusaiga was incredible, a part of him he would never trade away, but the power to grant life was…

No. It was too much. Too overwhelming, too much responsibility. Too much power.

He almost laughs. No wonder Sesshomaru wanted both. Greedy prick.

Still, the selfish part of him wishes that he could keep it, too. Regardless of what happened when he reached Edo, the truth was that Naraku still had to be defeated. This detour on their journey didn’t change that fact, didn’t alter the ultimate goal. People everywhere were in danger as long as he lived, and destroying the evil hanyou was the only way to stop the senseless destruction of lives.

But to do that, his friends would be exposed to incredible danger. They had _already_ been exposed to incredible danger, and through a combination of luck and skill they were all still alive. But it would only get worse from here on out. And what if…

He can’t even bring himself to think about it. Sango, Miroku, Shippo, _Kagome_ – the thought of losing any of them was unfathomable. The thought that they could be saved if the worst were to happen…

He looks longingly at Tenseiga, and there is an ache in his chest. The sword was valuable beyond measure.

But it doesn’t belong to him.

He makes up his mind. If he can’t break the curse, he knows _exactly_ what he will use this sword for. But if he’s able to return to his own body…

Could he convince Sesshomaru to help him if his need was dire?

He snorts, thinking that the stress of the past few weeks must have caused him some permanent brain damage. There was a fat chance of _that_ ever happening. That bastard had left him out in the cold to fend for himself when he was just a little boy. He had tried to trick him by conjuring up an imitation of his dead mother. He had tried to _kill_ him.

Any yet he had saved that otter demon. Though he tried to deny it, he had saved Kagome and the others from Mukotsu, the poison master. And he protected a defenseless little girl, one who offered him bright smiles and bouquets of wildflowers.

Perhaps he wasn’t entirely heartless after all. Still a complete snob, a total jackass, and still _mostly_ heartless, but perhaps there was a chance – no matter how small – to bridge the gap and make him an ally.

It was a long shot – he had a better odds of turning Miroku into a saint or getting Shippo to swear off sweets – but for the sake of his friends he might be willing to try.

And if he failed, he would just have to be strong enough to use his own sword to protect them.

The demons that cross his path as dusk falls barely even attract his attention, and he dispatches them with distracted efficiency as he keeps one eye on the safety of his current companions and the other turned toward the future protection of the ones waiting for him in Edo. So lost in thought, he barely notices when day fades to night or when the road gives way to thick trees, marking the edge of the forest that was named for him half a century ago. Excitement builds as he thinks he may have stumbled on the solution to their problem. Just as he’s starting to work out the details, Rin jars him out of his reverie.

“Lord Sesshomaru! Look!”

False daylight sears into the forest as not fifty paces away the Bone Eater’s Well blazes to life. His entourage slows to a stop behind him and his train of thought is completely derailed as he watches a familiar figure appear at its mouth.

“What’s that girl doing in the well, Lord Sesshomaru?”

“Milord, isn’t that Inuyasha’s wench?”

He’s not even listening. He takes in the sight of her, her long glossy hair and strange clothes, that insufferable yellow backpack, those long, clumsy legs. A painful, yearning ache burns beneath his ribs and constricts his throat.

He knew he had missed her, but he had no idea just how much until this moment. His heart swells.

_“Kagome!”_

Crouched on the edge of the well, one knee hitched over its edge, she turns to look at him over her shoulder.

Time stretches out as they gaze at one another, and he wants nothing more than to run to her side and gather her up in his arms. He almost takes a step forward, intent on doing just that, but she surprises him by making the first move.

She bolts.

Confused and hurt, he calls out to her. “Wait! Stop!”

She only runs faster, stumbling over her own feet but not losing any momentum.

“Not on your life, pal!”

What?

Oh, right. _Shit._

He’d been so caught up in seeing her again that for a brief, blissful moment he forgot himself. Of _course_ she’d run! Sesshomaru was a dangerous enemy! _Stupid!_

Slack jawed and wide-eyed, he watches mutely as she vanishes into the shadows of the forest, green skirt flapping in her wake.

Panic strikes.

In no time at all she would reach the village where their friends were waiting, and no doubt she would warn them that Inuyasha was here. Except that he’s _not_ Inuyasha. As far as they know, he’s Sesshomaru: villainous demon and overall nuisance. They’ll rush out to greet him, but not in the way he would have liked – they’ll come out with weapons drawn.

He doesn’t even want to _guess_ how it will play out from there.

He resists the urge to groan. He’d really, _really_ screwed up this time.

But there’s no time to think it through. He has to act fast. Besides, he’s great at thinking on his feet, right?

With a determined nod of his head, he gives chase.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are finally coming to a head! Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me through this wild ride so far. Stay tuned for the final chapter of this misadventure, coming up shortly!


	9. Over the Moon

Sesshomaru watches the sky.

The rising and setting of the sun, the gradual shift of the constellations as they pass overhead, their disappearance when the first rays of dawn steal them away.

It’s a way to count time, of course. Funny how time had never seemed to matter much before; he had been blessed with an abundance of it. It had slipped by unnoticed up until now. Goals and conquests had occupied his thoughts rather than minutes and hours.

But with the weight of the knowledge of the future he can’t help but acknowledge that this body is keenly aware of time; it demands his attention and he can almost feel it as the flesh around him ages and dies. It’s a slow process to be sure – this body would far outlast any typical human one – but nevertheless it was not designed to withstand the ages. Time mattered to this body and was bound by it. And now he was as well.

The longer he was in this body the longer the list of limitations continued to grow. He was bound by its lack of power, its mortality, and its vulnerability. Bound to the people who claimed to care for him. And now it seems he is bound to this despicable little village as well. Bound to the place where he is free to slip though time, only to be reminded that he may not reach that destination on his own.

The future spans out in front of him, uncertain and lacking promise. But tonight it is not the future that concerns him.

Sesshomaru watches the moon.

He knows that this body is bound by time in others ways; not only was the passing of time a gradual march toward death, but also a looping, rhythmic cycle along the way. A pattern would repeat, and it would happen soon.

Inuyasha may not have known it, but Sesshomaru is familiar with the curse of half-demons, and is well aware of when that curse affects his half-brother. Since the day he was born, Sesshomaru had known about Inuyasha’s day of weakness. _His_ weakness now.

He had felt fear when he first entered this body, and now is ashamed to admit that he feels it again as he waits for the new moon to rise.

As the sun begins to set the group gathers around the fire pit in Kaede’s hut, speaking in low tones about battle plans and their impossible hopes for the future. He doesn’t join in the conversation, nor does he eat the proffered food despite the gnawing in his stomach. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t possibly eat at a time like this.

He watches the light fade from around the cracks in the door mat and wonders when it will happen. When the sun has finally set? When the moon rises? Somewhere in between?

Something _shifts._

There is almost no warning. For a few brief moments he can feel an odd vibration, accompanied by a dulling of his senses, as though cotton has been stuffed into his ears and nose. Then a pulse – once, twice, three times – stealing away the energy from inside him with every beat of his heart. It doesn’t hurt, but the sensation is worse than any pain he has felt, worse than losing his arm or being blasted by the wind scar. He tries to maintain his stoic façade – _gods_ , how does one become accustomed to this – but he can’t contain it; he blinks wide, clutching his chest and leaning over his bent knees.

“Inuyasha? Are you feeling okay?”

Sango. The voice sounds far away and muffled, missing its nuance and crispness. He catches his breath and manages a reply, and his own voice sounds equally strange in his ears.

“It’s nothing.”

But it’s so much more than nothing. He can feel the energy leeching off of him in waves, curling off of the surface of his skin like sweat evaporating in the heat. He watches with sick fascination as the strands of hair that hang in his face become stained black.

He reaches out to examine the hair, catches a single lock and holds it up to his face. His fingers end up drawing more of his attention than the hair itself; the weak, blunt nails catch the firelight and gleam dully.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You look a little… lost, my friend.”

He looks up and Miroku is watching him carefully. The whole group is. The scrutiny is too much, and a powerful need to escape from beneath their watchful – and infuriatingly compassionate – gaze builds within him. Sesshomaru feigns nonchalance and casually drops the lock of hair. He swiftly stands, stooping to gather Tetsusaiga from its resting place beside him. The muscles in his legs feel off balance; he tries not to sway as he strides toward the doorway.

“Where are you going?” Miroku asks.

He pauses. “Out.”

Shippo rolls his eyes. “Don’t be stupid, Inuyasha. You know you shouldn’t go anywhere when you’re just a weak human.”

Sango shoots the kit a disapproving frown, but softens her expression when she turns back to him. “Shippo’s right. It could be dangerous.”

The very idea of being protected by humans – _again_ – ruffles what little pride he has left. He shakes his head. “I have my sword. I’ll be fine.”

Shippo laughs. “That rusty thing won’t do you much good tonight. You know that.”

He hadn’t noticed - hadn’t anticipated it - but the little fox is right. He concentrates hard, but there is no familiar thrum or song. Tetsusaiga is just like him tonight, bereft of any power and lifeless at his hip. Unbidden, he is reminded of how it looked when he saw it for the first time after his father’s death, inside a cavern of bone, rejecting his touch. His left hand twitches.

The need to escape intensifies. In the past he would have just turned his back and walked away, forcibly if necessary. But he is not himself, not anymore. Never again. Instead he searches for an excuse they will accept. “I’m… going to the spring. To bathe.”

“Miroku could – “

“No.” He notices their expressions at his harsh rejection. “But thank you.” They look even more confused at his attempt at placation. He makes a move for the door covering. “I won’t be long.”

Miroku is still giving him an odd look. “If you insist. But if you’re gone too long we’ll come looking, so be sure to return promptly if you don’t want to be exposed to the eyes of curious ladies.”

Sango smacks his arm and Sesshomaru shakes his head. He beats a hasty retreat out of the hut and is thankful when he isn’t followed.

The night envelops him as soon as he steps outside and for a moment he has to pause to remember the way to the spring. On any other night his vision would guide him, but these human eyes are worse than useless. He fights the disorientation as he makes his way down the stairs. By the time he reaches the bottom his eyes have adapted but only by degrees – the moonless night works against him.

The village is quiet and so are the woods. The sound of insects dims as he approaches, replaced with the croaking of frogs up ahead. He must be getting close. He practically jumps out of his skin when a bird alights on a tree branch overhead, rustling the leaves. Embarrassment washes over him. Normally, he would sense all that is around him, able to detect the slightest changes in the environment. More than that, though. Normally he would never be afraid.

Yet that shameful emotion has managed to crawl across his skin and tingle down the length of his spine more often in the past few weeks than it has in centuries. He is weary of being afraid. And yet the unknown poses a threat as it never had before. For the briefest of moments he second guesses his idea to come out into the wilderness alone, unarmed and defenseless.

No. Human or hanyou or demon, he was not afraid of the _dark_. With renewed resolve he pushes forward, and before long the spring opens up before him like rippling black silk beneath cold starlight. Cautiously, he kneels down at the edge of the bank and peers over.

The reflection is not unexpected, but it is surprising nevertheless. Dark eyes framed by dark hair stare back at him. Mesmerized, he opens his mouth a little and runs the tip of his tongue along the smooth edges of his teeth. With blunt fingers he reaches up to trace the shell of one rounded ear. The muted sensations almost convince him that he is watching someone else instead of his own reflection.

He had known of the curse of half-demons, had known that they transformed into powerless humans, but he never would have guessed what it would _feel_ like. He thinks of his brother enduring this transformation once a month, bereft of any power for the course of a night, the heirloom at his hip rendered useless.

The gods only knew how he had managed. His friends had probably been a major asset, but then again, they hadn’t always been there. He hadn’t even possessed a proper sword until recently, for that matter. Until then he had been alone, armed only with his claws. And on nights like this, not even that.

Against his will his mind takes it a step further, and he can imagine the face reflected before him rounded and young - Rin’s age, perhaps.   

Enduring this as an adult was one thing. But for a child…

The treacherous human heart in his chest squeezes, and he dismisses the thoughts immediately. Regrets – if he had any, which he _didn’t_ – would not do him nor his brother any good. He needed to focus on the present, and the future.

Except that feels even worse. Inuyasha’s future was his future now. His monthly transformations, his motley group of friends, his complicated love life, his shortened lifespan – they were his now, down to the furry ears and the blunted human teeth. The only consolation is having the power to wield his Father’s fang, but if he had known that this was the price for finally taking possession of Tetsusaiga he would have never sought it in the first place. Wherever Naraku was, he is certain that he is laughing. His Father probably was too.

If he were a lesser being he might have been tempted to cry.

“I’ve never known anyone to bathe by sitting _next_ to a spring before.”

Sesshomaru startles and leaps to his feet, but as he pivots the soft edge of the bank gives way beneath him and he topples backward, arms pinwheeling against the graceless decent. His senses come alive as he splashes into the shallow icy water of the spring. Over the sounds of his own sputtering he can hear muffled laughter.

Humiliation burns hot under his skin despite the chilly water steadily seeping into his clothes. _Enough._ Dull fingernails dig into the mud as his temper explodes. “How _dare_ you, monk! When I am flaying the skin from your bones perhaps you will regret your decision to laugh at this Se –“ his jaw clamps shut as he remembers himself.

Miroku just smirks and raises one eyebrow. “This what?”

“This situation,” he covers, composing the anger that still boils beneath his skin. “Sneaking up on others is rude.”

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He offers his hand but Sesshomaru ignores it, pushing himself up and out of the water. In an attempt to maintain his dignity, he smooths his hands over his rumpled clothing, but only manages to smear the fire-rat with mud. He represses a groan and directs his frustration outward.

“I was _not_ frightened.” He glares at the monk long and hard. “And I was not gone long. There was no need for you to come searching.”

“Sango was getting worried. But I admit that it wasn’t worry that brought me here, but rather curiosity.”

Sesshomaru is beginning to hate that word. “Curiosity?”

His expression turns thoughtful. “Indeed. We’ve been with you for quite a few new moons now, and I’ve always been curious about the differences between demons and humans. As a human myself, I can only speak firsthand from one of those experiences. But you have known both.” The monk gives him an appraising look. “What’s it like, being a demon?”

There’s something about his tone that sets Sesshomaru on edge. Does he suspect…? A part of him screams to confess everything, just to be done with this farce once and for all, but pride will not allow him. “I wouldn’t know. I’m only a half-demon, remember?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Of course. But you know what it’s like to be a full demon too, don’t you?”

The monk’s persistence catches him off guard, and Miroku is watching him carefully as he scrambles for an answer. His mind snags on the fact that Inuyasha had felt full demon power when threatened and separated from his sword. His paranoia is obviously getting the better of him; surely that was what Miroku was referring to. He hedges. “You know I cannot remember anything from my transformations into a full demon.” His heart squeezes at the lie, the recollection of the power he would never feel again.

Miroku looks unconvinced. “Is that so? That’s a shame. I bet it’s magnificent.”

_You have no idea_. “You should ask Shippo if you’re so curious.”

Miroku sighs. “It just wouldn’t be the same, I’m sure. I was hoping to get answers from someone much more powerful.” He looks thoughtful. “The demons in your family, for example, have been extraordinary if my understanding is correct.”

_Indeed._ A sad sort of smile works its way onto his face. “Then perhaps you should ask my brother what it’s like if we ever see him again. Assuming he doesn’t lop your head off for the impudence, that is.”

Miroku shrugs. “Oh, I’m not sure he would mind the inquiry. In fact, perhaps we should ask him now.”

Sesshomaru’s heart stutters. “ _What?_ ”

Miroku jerks a thumb behind him. “He arrived just after you left and demanded to speak with you. He actually made quite the entrance. I believe his exact words were: ‘Where’s the bastard at? I gotta talk to him.’”

A peculiar feeling blooms in his chest, and he identifies it as hope. Joy, even. His brother was _alive_ , and he was _here_.

Then Miroku’s words catch up to him and his mood fouls immediately. Who knows what violence Inuyasha had managed to do to his reputation simply by opening his loud and unseemly mouth over the past few weeks, and what damage he had done to their predicament by showing up here and announcing himself. And after the great pains he had taken to stay in character…

Obviously he needed to contain this situation as soon as possible. He tries to keep his voice free of emotion as he straightens his spine. “Why didn’t you say so? We should return. We don’t want to keep him waiting.”

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea? Don’t forget, you’re human tonight.”

_As if I could forget._ “I can handle him.”

He holds his head high as he glides past the monk, but he only makes it a few paces before he hears an amused voice from behind him.

“Inuyasha? It’s this way.”

Sesshomaru can’t wait for dawn.

When they arrive back at the shrine he can see that his brother’s allies have gathered outside, wary and confused by the unexpected visitor. Across from them, Jaken holds Ah-Un’s reins, and Rin is perched on his saddle. The sight of them almost cuts him off at the knees. It hadn’t occurred to him that he had _missed_ them.

Well, maybe not Jaken. But he almost smiles as he gazes at the little girl seated atop the dragon.

And then there is Inuyasha. In _his_ body. Sesshomaru doesn’t need to be able to sense demonic aura to know that Inuyasha is having a terrible time controlling his – strands of silver hair float about him despite the lack of wind. His clothing is rumpled, his sleeve and hakama are torn, and his posture is positively despicable.

But worst of all, Inuyasha is clutching a wriggling and writhing Kagome - whom he somehow must have intercepted on her way back from the well – and is loudly threatening the group while she pounds ineffectual fists against his armor.

“Where is he? Bring him out! If you don’t I swear I will… I’ll do something that you all will regret!”

Sesshomaru’s fists curl at his sides at the obvious disrespect Inuyasha has given his body, and at this ridiculous and _completely_ unbelievable display. He did _not_ sound like that. And he certainly did not stoop to kidnapping helpless women to achieve his ends.  Just as he is about to march over to remedy the situation, Inuyasha spots him.

And _laughs_.

The sound of it would be foreign even without these useless human ears, and it seems to startle the rest of the group as well. Sesshomaru watches in horror as his body emits great, whooping guffaws. He gently sets Kagome down so that he can bend at the waist, clutching his knee as his body trembles. Kagome scampers away and hides behind Sango, looking just as confused as the rest of the group.

And yet the laughter continues.  “What happened to _you?_ Having a hard time being human?”

Sesshomaru looks down at his dripping clothing and for the first time in centuries he wants to disappear in shame. But he doesn’t have time for that. He can sense the eyes of the others shifting between them, and he needs to contain this situation _now._

He storms up to a still laughing Inuyasha and grabs an empty sleeve – he can hear the group behind him gasp and Jaken starts to sputter – and yanks him in the direction of the forest. He is grateful that Inuyasha seems to be pliant; the body he tugs on is heavier than he thought possible.

“Come with me. _Now.”_

From behind him he hears Kagome’s tentative voice. “Inuyasha…?”

He pauses for only a moment. “Everything’s fine. Stay there. I need to have a talk with my _brother_.” The last word grinds between his teeth as he resumes pulling the considerable weight behind him.

Without his enhanced senses it’s impossible to tell if they are outside of the range of spying ears, so he just keeps tromping through the forest until he feels he can speak again without shouting. When he does he drops the sleeve and spins to face himself.

For a moment he just stares, faced with the unreality of the situation. He had convinced himself that his brother was dead, that this future was his, and had resigned himself to that fate. He should be relieved. But instead it feels like the gods are mocking him. Here was his own body, right in front of him, so close but still not _his_. He might have almost deluded himself otherwise, but this body – this life – would never be enough. And if there was any hope to be had, his idiot brother might have just destroyed it.

He finds his voice and hisses over his brother’s snickers. “Are you _mad?_ What are you _doing_ here, Inuyasha?”

His chuckles tapers off and he frowns. “Me? What am _I_ doing here? Ungrateful bastard. Where were _you?_ You said you would meet me weeks ago!”

He has a point, but Sesshomaru refuses to give up any ground. He crosses his arms and sticks his nose in the air. “I was delayed.”

His jaw drops. _“Delayed?”_

“Yes, _delayed_. But that shouldn’t have mattered. You should have been able to track us. Why didn’t you come sooner?” As an afterthought, he adds, “And with more discretion?”

Inuyasha averts his eyes – the reticence looks bizarre on his features. “I lost your trail, okay? And it hasn’t been easy to pick up again, considering I’ve had to fight off Naraku’s demons every five minutes.”

Sesshomaru’s eyes cut to his ruined clothing before giving him a flat look. “And it looks like you’ve done such an admirable job.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault you have a sword I can’t even touch!” Inuyasha glances at Tetsusaiga and winces. “…Anyway, it’s not like you’ve done much better. I found the blood. Were you trying to get me killed or something?”

“If you were the one actually inhabiting this body at the time, it would have been my pleasure.” Inuyasha growls, and Sesshomaru finds himself oddly envious. “As it was, I was hindered by your sluggish half-demon reflexes.”

He looks him up and down. “Keh. Well, there better not be any permanent damage.” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he eyes the state of Sesshomaru’s clothing. “At least the fire-rat is washable.”

The smile turns to chuckles, and Sesshomaru’s incredulity turns to irritation. “Inuyasha, this is no laughing matter!”

This only makes Inuyasha laugh harder. Sesshomaru wants nothing more than to knock some sense into him, but he can’t quite bring himself to punch his own face. Unable to stand it anymore, Sesshomaru compromises and reaches up to shake him by the shoulders. Inuyasha just shrugs him off.

“You never did have a sense of humor.” He finally calms and sighs as he wipes at the corner of one eye with a knuckle. “I’d almost say all this bullshit was worth it just to see you like this.”

Sesshomaru sneers at the foul words coming out in his voice. “See _you_ like this, you mean. This is _your_ body.”

“You’re right, it _is_ my body. And _that’s_ why I’m here. I think I know how to get it back.”

That unfamiliar feeling of hope sparks within him once again for the second time that evening, but it’s accompanied by an unexpected hesitation. This body was weak, and vulnerable, and came with a long list of burdens – but by letting it go he would lose access to his link to the distant future. His own body had the power to destroy any enemy, but this body had the power to transcend time. The knowledge he would lose could be priceless.

He almost laughs. Being human had clearly dulled his intellect along with his senses. In his own body he wouldn’t _need_ that knowledge. All he would need is the power to forge ahead and face the future head on.

And Tetsusaiga, of course. But that problem could be remedied _after_ he was returned to his own body.

Though he feigns impatience, he is eager to hear the plan. “And? How is this to be accomplished?”

Inuyasha looks smug. On his features the look is infuriating; he can see why his brother hates it so much. “Kaede.”

As quick as it had come, the hope dies. “The old woman?”

“Not just any old woman. A _priestess_. I bet she knows how to help, we just need to ask.”

He shakes his head. “It will give us away. If your bumbling display hasn’t already, that is.”

Inuyasha throws up his hand in frustration. “I don’t see what choice we have. Do you know any other holy woman who might be willing to help a demon and a half-demon in our condition?” He scratches his head, and the gesture looks obscene. “Well, except maybe Kikyo, but I don’t know how to find her…”

Sesshomaru scoffs. “Your former lover? Your companions might not care for that.”

Sharp eyes cut to his. “What do _you_ know about it?”

“More than I ever wanted to.”

Inuyasha blanches and then shakes his head. “Keh. Whatever. We should do this. It might be our only shot.” He gives him a sidelong look. “Unless of course you don’t want to. Not too long ago I wanted to be a full demon, I suppose I could get used to – “

“Let’s go.”

The sound of his laughing voice follows them all the way back to the shrine.

After some placating and convincing on Sesshomaru’s part, the two groups squeeze uneasily into Kaede’s little hut and all listen with rapt attention as Inuyasha finishes telling the story. “So that’s how it happened. For the past few weeks we’ve been stuck in each other’s bodies. Lady Kaede, you might be the only one who can help us get back to normal.”

 Stunned silence suffocates the room for the span of three heartbeats. Then, Miroku startles everyone when he slaps a knee in triumph.

“I knew it!”

Sesshomaru frowns and is about to reply when Kagome overrides him. Her eyes are wide. “This whole time…?” Her face goes red and then clouds with anger. _“This whole time!?”_ He sees her fists curl and he braces himself.

_“SIT!!”_

Nothing happens, and for once he is grateful for the new moon.

Until Kagome storms over and punches him in the face.

“Hey!” Inuyasha shouts. “I’m the one who’s going to feel that!”

“Well you deserve it too!” With that she marches out of the room, shaking the floorboards with her stomping feet.

Inuyasha blinks and then narrows his eyes. “What did you _do_ to her?”

“More than you ever did, apparently.”

Inuyasha raises a fist, but Kaede intervenes. “Boys! Calm down and listen carefully. I believe I may be able to help, but ye must do exactly as I say. I must go prepare. Meet me in the courtyard at dawn.”

While Inuyasha spends the rest of the night catching up with his allies and attempting to coax Kagome out of a back room, Sesshomaru opts to escape the cramped hut and spend his time outside on the lanai. Jaken tries to talk to him but he shoos him away with a well-aimed rock. He is back to watching the sky, though this time the minutes stretch even longer as he counts the stars. Unlike the period leading up to his transformation, however, dread has been replaced with contentment and hope – hope that he could be returned to his rightful place – in the present and future - and contentment that even if it didn’t work, he no longer had to pretend. Despite the constriction on his senses and his power, he hasn’t felt this free in weeks.

Light from inside the hut spills out onto the ground as the door mat flaps open at the corner. Without his sense of smell he is forced to turn to look.

Rin grips the door frame, eyes lowered as she peeks out. “Lord Sesshomaru?”

“Hnn.” It doesn’t sound right. “Yes?”

She studies her toes and fidgets with her hands. “I know Master Jaken said you wanted to be left alone, but may I join you?”

“If it pleases you.”

One more piece of his world feels like it has been righted as she settles a respectable distance away, but she is uncharacteristically quiet. She pretends to look at the stars with him, but her eyes keep straying in his direction. He sighs.

“Is there something you wish to say?”

“No, my lord. It’s just so… strange.”

The understatement of the millennia. Still, he indulges her. “Strange?”

“Yes. For tonight you are a human, just like me.”

He blinks, remembering his thoughts from beside the spring. He had no regrets, but he could use what he had learned and use it to move forward. This night had made him all the more aware of her vulnerabilities as a human child. Even though he would soon have Tenseiga back, he did not wish to see her come to any needless harm. He would be sure to accompany her after dark from now on. He would be sure to accompany her whenever he was able.  

She interrupts his thoughts. “I wasn’t fooled, you know.” He raises a disbelieving brow. “Well, maybe I was at first. But he talks funny. And – and he gave me a hug when I fell and scraped my knee.”

He doesn’t need demon hearing to detect her bittersweet tone. He’ll never truly understand the need for contact and comfort, but maybe –

“And he laughed! Not very much, but still.” She peeks at him from beneath her lashes. “Lord Sesshomaru has a very nice laugh. I had never heard it before.”

Something strange squirms in his chest, and if he were a lesser being he might have named it jealousy. “You prefer this type of behavior?”

Her eyes go wide. “Oh no, my lord! It was nice, but I prefer you just the way you are.”

“I see.” Damn Inuyasha. In no time at all he had turned his entire world upside down.  

And yet it hadn’t all been bad. Perhaps he had learned something.

He’s tempted to reach for her, to pat her head or smooth her hair, but a pulse jars him from his position, making him jolt upright. The first true rays of dawn had broken and relief washes over him for just an instant before the process begins in reverse. This time, with each pulse he can feel the demonic aura swirling around him, creeping under his skin and invading his body. It feels _wonderful._ His senses come alive and suddenly it is too much to keep his eyes trained on the brightening sky. He shuts his eyes and concentrates on the feeling of power sinking into his limbs. It’s not the power he’s used to, nor is it the power he wants, but it’s leagues better than the lack he has had for the past night. When he opens his eyes white hair drapes over his chest and his claws have returned. When he takes a deep breath he can smell the excitement and wonder of the little girl at his side.

“Wow! That was really neat! Can you do anything like that, Lord Sesshomaru?”

“It is only something that happens to half-demons.” He stands, and on impulse he holds out a hand to help her up.

She smiles and eagerly takes it. “Well, you can do much more impressive things than that anyway. Being a full demon is much better, isn’t it?”

He can feel the fragility of her hand surrounded by his claws when he answers. “Perhaps.” A smile tugs gently at one corner of his mouth as he looks down at her.

Inuyasha could keep his moody human. He much preferred his own.

At that moment the old woman emerges, formally dressed and carrying two small bowls, one containing fresh water and another crushed herbs. She nods to him. “It is time. Come, to the courtyard.”

She arranges the brothers in the center of the clearing so that they are standing side by side. The rest of the group shuffles out of the hut and forms a small ring at a distance, curiosity evident in their expressions. Even Kagome appears, though she pointedly avoids looking at him. When she is ready, Kaede steps in front of them and blocks their view of the audience.

“I have analyzed the content of the curse as ye have told it. As I see it, there are three steps to reversing its effects. First, ye must eat this.”

It’s obvious that she means to feed it to them, and while the idea of it rankles his pride, he obediently opens his mouth. The concoction she sprinkles onto his tongue is bitter and acidic. He refrains from chewing it and swallows it whole. She shifts to his brother and does the same, though he has to bend at the waist for her to reach him.  

“This herb excites your demonic energy and your spirits. The stimulation should bring your essence to the surface to prepare for the transferring of souls.”

From the bowl of water she wets her fingers and flicks them toward the ground, muttering incantations and creating a pattern Sesshomaru doesn’t recognize. Then she surprises him by flicking the same water in his face. He resists the urge to scowl as she moves on and repeats the process with Inuyasha.

She steps back and encourages the audience to give a wider berth. “The magic will begin to take effect shortly. In order to break the curse, ye must undo its purpose. Face one another.” He turns and tilts his chin up so that he is staring into his own face. “Now, answer the following questions. First, over this past month, have ye known power?”

Simultaneously, they answer. “Yes.”

“Have ye known weakness?”

Again, they answer in the affirmative, though Sesshomaru is a beat behind.

“Despite your skills and talents, have ye been humbled?”

Inuyasha responds. “I suppose so.”

It pains him to admit it, but after a moment Sesshomaru gives the barest of nods.

“Out loud, please, Lord Sesshomaru.”

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Good. In what ways?”

The brothers eye each other for just a moment, but Inuyasha decides to go first. “I always thought I wanted to be a great demon, a full demon like you – well, not like _you,_ you’re a jerk – but powerful like you. And I guess it has its uses, but it’s also a lot to handle. You have a lot more power and control over it than I gave you credit for. I wouldn’t even know how to manage it. Plus, it’s kind of isolating. In a lot of ways I thought you had it made, but I was wrong. Your life’s been hard, too. And…” He looks at the ground. “And you do everything you need to with only one arm. That’s hard, and it’s my fault. Well, you deserved it at the time, but I still regret it. So I’m sorry, I guess.”

The rest of the group is just as speechless as he is. Kaede prompts him gently. “Lord Sesshomaru?”

He blinks and returns his thoughts to the matter at hand. He clears his throat. “Being a half-demon presents many challenges. Being a human once per month – “ he almost says it, almost admits his mixed emotions at letting Inuyasha fend for himself as a boy, but reins it in, aware of his audience – “presents even more. It takes courage to face these challenges with such limited means. It also takes wisdom to secure allies to aid in a quest in order to shore up areas of weakness.” He keeps himself from glancing at Kagome, but just barely. “Though a necessity for someone like you, you have successfully managed to maintain alliances, which are complicated and fraught with pitfalls should you betray the feelings of others.”

Inuyasha sneers. “Was that supposed to be a compliment? Because if it was, you really are a bast – “

“Boys! The magic is taking effect!” Sure enough, their auras had been pulled to the surface; he can see the glow as it shimmers and dances across his own skin.

_Finally._

Kaede’s voice is authoritative and brimming with excitement. “Now, to secure the transfer of souls, ye must get closer! Allow the energies to find the pathway home!”

The two brothers exchange a skeptical look and shuffle a half step closer.

“Closer!”

Another half step.

Kaede groans in frustration. “No, no, _no!_ Ye must _embrace!_ ”

Sesshomaru breaks eye contact with himself and swings his gaze in her direction. “You must be jok – “

But before he can finish he feels a single arm wrap around his shoulder, and a clawed hand forcing one furry ear against rough leather and steel. Outwardly, he doesn’t move. Inwardly, he is screaming.

His voice is low, so the others can’t hear. “You heard the lady. You want your body back? Hug me, asshole.”

Tentatively, his arms come up to circle his own waist. _It’s just like hugging myself, that’s all. Either way, this will all be over soon._

Once he is settled into the embrace, he feels Inuyasha rest his chin upon the top of his head. He squeezes his eyes shut against the humiliation, only to have them snap open at the collective _awwww_ coming from the assembled group. Before he can scowl at them, his breath is stolen away, and he pulls back just in time to see the frightened, awe-struck expression on his brother’s face before his eyes roll back and the world fades.

* * *

 

When Inuyasha wakes, he feels good. Better than good. Fantastic. _Whole._ The sun is warm on his back and a soft breeze teases at the ends of his hair. It’s far too nice to open his eyes just yet; he snuggles closer to the warm fur against his face. 

The ground rumbles beneath him.

“Remove yourself. _Now_.”

His eyes snap open and he scrambles onto his hands and knees, only to be confronted by his older brother’s ugly mug. His _furious_ ugly mug.

With a yelp he leaps up and back, only to bump into Kagome. She blushes furiously before sticking her nose up in the air and crossing her arms. Meanwhile, the rest of the group is jubilant.

“Lord Sesshomaru! Is it really you?”

“Inuyasha? Are you okay?”

“It’s so good to have you back, milord! I knew you would overcome this trial!”

Inuyasha looks down with wonder at his hands, his sword, his clothes. Everything was exactly the way it was before, the way it _should_ be. In his excitement he disregards Kagome’s squeak as he hooks his arms around her waist and spins her in the air. He ignores her protests as he sets her down and hugs each of his friends in turn, scampering manically from one to the next. Not even Kaede is exempt from his attentions; after all, if it weren’t for her he might still be stuck living that bastard’s life for all eternity.

“It worked! I can’t believe it worked! I – “

He stops short as said bastard steps in front of him, aura tamed and clothing pristine – _how the hell does he_ do _that?_ Inuyasha quickly folds his hands into his sleeves; one hug was more than enough to last a lifetime.

Sesshomaru eyes him impassively. “I’ll be taking my leave.”

Inuyasha blinks. “Oh. So… that’s it then?”

Sesshomaru quirks a brow. “What else would there be?”

His earlier thoughts flash across his mind, the ones about smoothing things over and forming an alliance. _Test the waters. Stall._ “…You don’t want to know what happened over the past month?”

The bored expression doesn’t even flicker. “It is inconsequential.”

Inuyasha rolls his eyes. “Right. Then I don’t suppose you’re going to catch me up with what happened to _you_.”

His brother gestures with a slight jerk of his chin at the crowd assembled behind him. “Ask them.”

It’s not like they’ve ever shared much in common, and as such the extent of possible conversation points has already run dry. “So that really is it, then.” Sesshomaru just keeps staring at him. Inuyasha shifts his weight uncomfortably, taking one final risk. “You’re not gonna, I don’t know, try to kill me and take my sword like always?”

The moment stretches out as Sesshomaru tilts his head and appraises him. Inuyasha almost regrets bringing it up. But then his brother gives a small, weary sigh. “Not today.” Inuyasha almost smiles, but then his brother’s eyes narrow. “But make no mistake. I _will_ take what is rightfully mine.”

He doesn’t know why, but the tiniest part of him feels disappointed. He shakes his head, trying to come to his senses. He can’t say he really expected much different. “Keh. Figures.” He gestures at his waiting companions. “Well then, don’t let me stop you.”

Without another word Sesshomaru turns on his heel and strides toward Jaken and Rin, taking the reins of the dragon in his hand.

He knows he’s pushing his luck, but he can’t help himself. “Where will you go?”

Sesshomaru gives him a tired look over his shoulder. “To find and kill Naraku. What else?”

“Right.” Inuyasha watches as the little girl climbs cheerfully into the saddle. There’s a pang in his heart as he watches them prepare to depart. _Obviously_ it has nothing to do with his brother. And it’s not like he would miss Jaken’s annoying rants. But Rin... “Hey, if you want my advice – “

“I don’t.”

“Well, if you did, I would say that hunting Naraku is all fine and good, but you might want to stop and hug your girl every now and then. It seems to make her happy, though I don’t know why anyone would want affection from _you.”_

Sesshomaru turns and studies him for just a moment. “I could say the same to you.” His eyes cut to Inuyasha’s friends and he has a bad feeling that Sesshomaru is speaking from experience. To confirm he chances a glance backward and Kagome is staring at her shoes, her cheeks flaming.

When he turns back around his brother and his group have already started to make their way down the shrine steps. He calls after them one last time.

“Hey, Sesshomaru!” His brother half turns. “It goes without saying that we’re never going to speak of this again, right?”

“Agreed.” His eyes flick down to Inuyasha’s waist and then back up. He smirks. “ _Little_ brother.”

_“Hey!”_ He almost goes after him, but the strange sound emanating from Sesshomaru as he leads his pack away gives him pause. Was he – was he _laughing_?

He shakes his head. He supposes he could let this one go. Just this once. After all, the world had been set right again.

And now they both had one more reason to kill Naraku.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super long AN - Whew, we finally reached the end! I have to say – I never intended for this story to be so long. It was meant to be brief vignettes if anything. There wasn’t even meant to be a plot. It was written on a whim, and truth be told, I wrote the last chapter first (though it’s had quite a few alterations since then). The whole thing was inspired by a random piece of fanart that I saw – Sesshomaru transformed into a human, down on his knees, looking totally horrified and bereft. From there, I thought – hmm, what could the circumstances be that led to Sesshomaru having to endure being human… oh! A curse! He has to swap with his brother! I bet they could get up to all kinds of hijinks in each other’s bodies! And could there be some character development and some hard-earned empathy thrown in for good measure? It sort of wrote itself from there. The hardest part was trying to keep it canon-compliant-ish, sort of a goofy in-between arc that would foster some understanding between the two of them (but not too much!) while still keeping true to their behavior in the Final Act. 
> 
> I know some people were kind of worried about the shipping, and I apologize if I hurt anyone’s feelings or ruffled any shipping feathers. I really just wanted to play around a little with these characters, and in the end nothing really changes in that department – though there’s always room for later development. *wink* 
> 
> Anyway, this has been a ton of fun to write. If I managed to make you smile – or even laugh – then I’ve done my job. There may or may not be a sequel to this (with declared ships from the get-go), but don’t hold your breath on when that might be - I have a million ideas but not a lot of time at the moment. Thanks so much for going on this silly little jaunt with me, and let me know what you think!


End file.
